Isobel had been correct. When the party was fairly confident about the order in which to light the brackets, they lit them one by one, and a door, well-disguised as part of the architectural design of the chamber, rumbled back into a hidden slot into the wall, revealing a giant stone coffer. The lid had already been partly pulled away, revealing a glimpse of a skeleton within, but the most surprising discovery was an object that looked like it was some kind of ancient water barrel, except that it was lit with blue flames, filling the room with a faint haze of blue smoke.
Ellethir made the mistake of entering the room first, coming out coughing and heaving within seconds. "Creators…what kind of trap…?"
"It's giving me a headache even from here…" Fae grimaced, backing further away from the door.
"It's lyrium," Vivienne sniffed. "Pure lyrium. Enchanted to keep burning indefinitely, it seems, though how I expect may be a question to pose to Arcanist Dagna."
"Well, at least we now know for sure," Varric said, ushering everyone out of the tomb and back into the open air. "These dwarves built a colony on the surface. On purpose. And even buried their dead on the surface, instead of returning them to the Stone like real dwarves. Because real dwarves don't like the surface. Real dwarves say leaving the Stone is death."
"And yet the death they believed awaited them if they didn't leave was worse," Blackwall concluded. "Onto the next one."
Another statue, this time that of an enormous dwarf, was their next beacon. Unlike the Colossus of Orlais, this statue had wooden ramparts added to sections of it, which created a path up to the clifftops above.
"These would be the Sunstop mountains, then," Ellethir inspected her map of the Hissing Wastes, and made a note. Isobel scouted ahead, daggers in hand, and ducked suddenly, indicating for everyone to crouch down as well.
"Venatori?" Ellethir whispered, and Isobel nodded. "Then let's take care of them before they notice us. Go!"
What information they could find in the aftermath mostly confirmed their theories so far; that the Venatori were looking for old dwarven secrets, that they had to make up for Alexius' failure somehow, and that the Inquisition was expected to arrive any day now, so it was time to retreat to the main camp behind the Sunstop Mountains.
Fortunately for the Inquisitor's party, they were already halfway there. Following the long road down the other side of the mountain, there were lights in the distance, and as they got closer, they saw the gallows first; barely-recognisable skeletons still hung from them, and a flag bearing the image of the snakes of Tevinter held in a closed fist flapped above them. A warning from the Venatori, to would-be deserters or runaway slaves.
The main camp itself was a series of hastily-erected wooden walls- ideal for blocking the sandy winds, and for cover in stealthy combat. "Take them out as quickly and as quietly as possible, before they can announce our arrival," Ellethir ordered.
They got about halfway through the camp this way, taking down one or two Venatori at a time, before their leaders caught wind of the attack and made a stand in the camp's main courtyard, but by then it was too late.
The papers they left behind were extensive, but contained information that was mostly already confirmed, apart from one important addition; what the Venatori were after was not a weapon itself, but "instructions on recreating the masterpieces of one of their finest Paragons, to be excavated, replicated and brough back for study," Fae read. "That's probably worse than just looking for the weapon itself."
"Does it say anything else?"
Fae paused. "'Do not spare the slaves. Speed is crucial to our success.'"
"Balls. Are there any slaves out here?" Sera called out.
A muffled cough sounded from around the corner, and Sera vanished, already digging lockpicks out of her pockets.
She re-emerged a few minutes later, with several exhausted-looking men and women dressed in rags. "Some of them were already gone," Sera announced bitterly. "But we've got this place on the map now. Harding's lot can come back for the dead, make sure they're not just…you know, left out here. They deserve better. Who's coming with me to bring these people back to camp?"
"I will," Blackwall offered. "Don't worry, you're all under the protection of the Inquisition now, but you're all free men and women."
"Alright, me and Beardy. We're off, Inquisitor."
"Thank you, Sera. Everyone else ready? We're heading down into the canyon next. As soon as we figure out how."
Once again, the Venatori had made the Inquisitor's life easier against their better judgement; a crude wooden lift had been assembled to lower them down into the canyon with a system of ropes and pulleys. The Iron Bull, as well as the chevaliers, embraced the opportunity to show off their muscles in lowering the lift down steadily, although a couple of the chevaliers were panting and wheezing by the time it reached the ground.
The tomb hidden within the canyon was set up similarly to the first, except that this one seemed to have been built into a natural cave rather than dug out. This time, using her book as a stable surface, Isobel translated the inscriptions side by side directly from the stone slabs. "After many years, Fairel, greatest of Paragons, could not bear life's burden. And with the burden growing, he called his sons to his bedside. He bade each son swear he would take care of his brother, and the brothers so swore, and mourned when their father returned to the Stone."
The body of a fallen Venatori was lying by the hidden door, carrying another map, marked 'The Burial Grounds Tomb.' The coffin within the newly-unsealed chamber seemed to be untouched, at least.
The group followed the map to the burial grounds tomb next, but rather than being protected by an enclosed chamber, the inscribed stone slabs were set into the bases of large dwarven statues outside. Long ago, they must have been covered by their own chambers, if the eroded pillars surrounding them were of any indication.
"Fairel's sons built monuments to their father, locking away his great works," Isobel's translations read. "And worked together, for a time, side by side. Each ruled half the thaig, but each ruled differently. They argued, and heated words made the brothers duel, and where one brother fell, the other raised bloodied axe in hand, alone."
A sealed cave nearby rumbled open when the torches had been lit, revealing another stone coffin, which was also left undisturbed, although putting out the torches didn't re-seal the chamber as the party had hoped, and the stone door wouldn't budge despite the combined efforts of everyone who tried.
The next tomb they found by accident, after finally catching up with Venatori still excavating on-site. A note mentioned the spiders in the canyon (they had come across a lot of dead giant spiders) (and a few live ones), that a wagon should have arrived by the time they got the note, and if not, to send archers to find and rescue them from these spiders, which 'seem to fear nothing but that screeching monster to the east.'
"I say let's try to avoid the screeching monster to the east," Varric said cheerfully.
"I don't. My great-axe is bored."
"Screeching monster's all yours, Tiny."
"It also says Devrenix will be by the Four Pillars Tomb," Ellethir said. "That's one of the tombs we know about from Harding. But where is it?"
Fae gestured to the toppled stone pillars around them, while Isobel pointed downwards, towards the mostly-buried stone steps sinking into the sand.
"Ah. Then where's Devrenix?"
"Probably one of these," Dorian pointed with his staff, looking around at the fallen Venatori and Red Templars. "Most likely that one, he's the best dressed."
Inside the main chamber there were several more dead Venatori, but not by the Inquisition's hand. A letter on one of the bodies offered some explanation; a Magister Gallus had warned them to verify the translations of the inscriptions first, as lighting the torches in the incorrect order would summon demons. Well, it was good to know that now. Someone else had scribbled formulas and notes on the rest of the page, puzzling out how ancient dwarves bound demons into rock without mages, and wrote of the term 'gangue' carved into the walls. Old dwarven for 'stone waste' or 'impure spirit-of-the-stone.'
"Maybe dwarves saw demons as impure spirits of the Stone?" Dorian suggested.
"Who knows," Varric shrugged. "But, and I hate having to remember this, we did encounter some, I don't know, ancient rock monsters during our ill-fated expedition into the Deep Roads years ago. Probably these gangues, but as to what they actually are? Not a clue. What about you, Chatterbox? Heard of them?"
Isobel shrugged, already busy with her translations.
"This is the tale of Fairel, Paragon among Paragons, father of two sons, who, against their father's wishes, fought from foolish words and foolish pride. For pride these halls were made- To honour a father's deeds, and grieve his loss. And for loss these halls were made, to honour a brother mourned."
When the torches were lit, and the coffin's chamber revealed, there was only a stone coffin just like the others, and a thin, worn paper resting on the lid. "Then this must be the brother that was killed," Fae said sadly.
Isobel nodded, moving closer to read the paper. Her eyes widened, and she began copying it down. "Tomb of Fairel!" she wrote on the side.
"Oh, shit," Fae gasped. "That's gotta be where the instructions are, right? With the Paragon himself?"
"We're getting close," Ellethir agreed. "But there's supposed to be six tombs, we're still missing one."
"Sunstop Mountain Tomb," Dorian answered, dusting sand off another note he'd found wedged underneath the arm of a fallen Venatori. "We missed it. It's from Devrenix- 'four slaves injured, ten dead after rockslide.' So they're digging down from the top instead."
The Inquisitor's party retraced their steps, and sure enough, they found a Venatori digging camp, which looked recently abandoned, including the deceased slaves. Word must have reached them that the Inquisition was on the move. Ellethir added the camp to their map so that the Inquisition could return to recover the remains, and the party covered them as best they could in the meantime. Cassandra said a quiet prayer.
The tomb itself was far, far further underground than the others had been, far enough that from the first ledge, they couldn't see past the ledges further down to the tomb's floor. The last ladder was stone, and brought them to a hallway where a dormant elven foci lay in one corner.
"That would explain why demons are so easily summoned to these tombs," Solas explained, reanimating the globe. "There. That should strengthen the Veil enough to keep it stable."
"I found another one!" Fae rushed over.
Solas looked confused. "Another elven foci?"
"What? No, another diary! I think it's the same researcher as before, listen," Fae cleared her throat, and everyone gathered. "It's a Paragon," she read. "The man who led the people here, who built this city, was master smith Paragon Fairel. Legend says he died in the Deep Roads during a war between two thaigs who used his runework to build fantastic weapons of destruction. If he escaped up here, that means the records are wrong, or someone a thousand years ago tried to pretty-up the truth about his leaving. The most talent shaper of runes in dwarven history, escaping with his entire house to the surface- now that will fluff some beards in the Shaperate! My father said our old family business used to be near an archway that was part of Fairel's paragon statue. I wish I could have shown him this. He's the one who wanted to believe our ancestors in the Stone were still guiding us. Be nice to think it was true." Fae paused. "And…that's it, he ran out of space. Most of the pages are translations."
"He built a whole city? As in, an entire surface thaig?" Varric's eyebrows had shot up. "Tombs are one thing, but a city? The Shaperate would hate that. Shame it doesn't appear to be around anymore."
"The central chamber should be through here, maybe the inscriptions will tell us more," Ellethir said, leading the way. Unfortunately, the doorway was simply to another ladder down. And then a staircase. And then another staircase. And then another ladder.
By the time they reached the central chamber, Fae was wheezing. "Great way…to avoid tomb robbing…" she panted. "Make it so everyone who reaches the tomb is too exhausted to get back out again, let alone taking any shit with them. Good call, old dwarves." She slid down the wall to collapse on the ground.
"The sun burned above oceans of sand, but in the sand was Stone, strong and true. Fairel hewed the Stone, and built- as great as any thaig in the deep. And with his sons' help, he ensured the thaig prospered and grew. Kal Repartha, a place where we may meet in peace," Isobel's next translation read.
"I wonder what destroyed the thaig, the Blight or the in-fighting between his sons?" Dorian wondered.
"Depending on how much real dwarven culture has changed or not since back then, my coin would probably be on a combination of both," Varric grumbled. "So, the way to Paragon Fairel's tomb is…ah. East. Where the screeching monster is supposed to be. Of course. This day just keeps getting better and better."
"Hah! Yeah it does!" The Iron Bull had to wait a full thirty minutes for the rest of the party to catch up after racing up the many flights of stairs and ladders. And was then sorely disappointed when the Inquisitor announced they would be resting here first, before potentially facing off with an unknown creature that even had the Venatori spooked.