Two days deep in the tunnels, a city of ghosts greeted them.
This place seemed the most intact, the most untouched by time in the thaig thus far. The darkspawn had yet to spoil it. The only things that lived here now were spiders and other such vermin, but the city's inhabitants continued to walk its streets as though their end had never come.
Sigrun was captivated, dashing from room to dusty room, careful not to disturb the long-abandoned dwarven remains. The ghostly figures had voices, but no solid forms. They could laugh, and yell, and cry, but one passed through them as one would a cloud of smoke, insubstantial. Sigrun watched each of them play out their final moments, their last battles, with an expression Velanna had only seen on the faces of those in mourning.
Velanna had not known much of the durgen'len and their past before now. What she had learned made her look at her dwarven companions in an entirely new light.
In a tucked-away chamber, nearby the bones of a Paragon, the Commander was hard at work transcribing a list of names that had been engraved on a stone marker. She'd a battered little journal and a charcoal pencil in her pack, and she filled pages with thick lines of her blocky script. She and Oghren had a spirited discussion about how best to alert Orzammar to their findings before she'd silenced him in order to concentrate.
Sigrun watched the scene with absolute solemnity. Velanna looked more closely at her face, at the raised edges of the brand on her cheek, disguised as it was by the black ink of her tattoos. The people here had died for a doomed civilization, in the vain hopes that they might be seen as people rather than cast-offs. And the tradition continued, if Velanna understood the purpose of Sigrun's Legion correctly. It made Velanna furious to watch this woman's heart break for a society so eager to discard her.
Velanna could only restrain herself for so long. "Why are you so loyal to your Legion of the Dead?" she asked, keeping her voice low. "And to Orzammar? Don't they hate you?"
Sigrun turned to her. She had maintained a jarringly cheerful disposition for most of their journey, but this city of the dead had dimmed the sparkle in her blue eyes. "They do. I'm casteless, so I'm worthless to them."
"And yet you'll give your life away to prove… what?" For such an annoyingly upbeat person, Sigrun had nearly no stories of fond memories to tell, and had named no friends beyond those she'd lost in the Legion. To die for their sakes, Velanna might have understood. To die for Orzammar's sake, to give her life in service to a people who had no love to spare for her…
Velanna thought of Ilshae, and felt it like the twist of a knife.
"That I…" Sigrun had turned her gaze downward, to look at her own clasped hands. "That I'm more than they say I am?"
"You don't owe them anything," Velanna said. They had given Sigrun nothing, and cast her out to die. Why should she want their respect when they had done nothing to earn hers? She had done more with nothing than most did with every privilege. "You don't need to prove your worth to them."
Sigrun sighed, a little smile of resignation on her lips. "Maybe I need to prove it to myself."
If Velanna ever found herself in Orzammar, she was going to give those dwarves an earful.
"I think I owe you an apology," Sigrun said after a moment. When Velanna looked back, she was smiling a little less sadly.
"Why?" Did she mean the night before, when it had been Velanna's turn to keep watch? Velanna had been in the grips of a nightmare when Sigrun shook her awake, and Velanna had nearly punched Sigrun right where her broken rib had freshly healed, thinking her the hideously distended form of a darkspawn broodmother. Velanna had never seen one before, and did not know if the reality matched the horror her dream had conjured, but if it was anywhere close… It did not bear considering.
"When we first met, I said something pretty rude to you, didn't I?"
Velanna had very nearly forgotten, but she burned all the way to the tips of her apparently excessively large ears to remember it.
"Yeah, that was shitty. If I want to prove I'm better than just some no good, dirty, foul-mouthed duster, I guess I ought to start by not insulting perfectly nice people. So: I'm sorry."
Velanna sputtered. All she could think to say in response was, "I'm not nice."
Sigrun just smiled that infuriating little smile of hers, like Velanna was telling her a joke. "If you say so."
"Your standards for niceness need some reconfiguring, my fine dwarven friend," Anders said, plopping himself down to the ground on Sigrun's other side. He dusted his knees off and popped a dried cherry into his mouth. Velanna turned her head away to avoid proving his point by saying something deeply unkind to him. Unfortunately, that meant she ended up catching Nathaniel quietly watching her from the corner.
He did not immediately look away. Well, then, neither would she, for she had caught him looking, and had nothing to be ashamed of. What was so fascinating to him anyway? Did he feel guilty for thinking her ugly? He needn't bother. More than being insulted, Velanna hated being pitied, and she lifted her chin a touch in defiance of it.
The veil was too thin down here. Velanna almost didn't dare cast, and was grateful the darkspawn seemed to have avoided the area so that she wasn't given much cause to. Perhaps they could sense the precarity of the divide between reality and the Beyond as well as she could. She could see that under his flippant exterior, Anders was as tense as she was, keeping his magic tightly in check. They'd enough to deal with without ripping a hole in the veil and unleashing some enraged spirit.
She wondered if the ghosts here were born of their proximity to the lyrium in these tunnels, or if they were lesser wisps taking dwarven shape. Battlefields drew wisps like flies, the sheer number of deaths wearing the barrier thin.
She would not have long to contemplate such things, however. As they drew away from the site of Kal'Hirol's last stand, signs of the darkspawn began to reappear. The stone walls grew wet and shapeless, first with lichen and other fungi, and then with signs of darkspawn corruption. Flesh-like growths coated the walls and ceilings, and in some places, disgustingly, even the floors, squelching under their boots like seaweed on a jetty. They huddled close together in the middle of each pathway, none of them wishing to accidentally brush against the walls.
When they encountered darkspawn again, they found them warring amongst themselves. Velanna had no idea if this was common or not; darkspawn were united in their mindless need for destruction of all living creatures, but these were no ordinary darkspawn. There seemed to be those among them of the same sort that had served the Architect, talking and thinking darkspawn, barking orders in search of someone or something called "the Lost". They seemed content to kill each other and move along, provided the Wardens stayed out of sight, but necessity dictated that they wade into a few of the skirmishes. Whatever their allegiance, both sides of the conflict found their ends under Warden blades.
Even with the darkspawn invasion, the master smiths of Kal'Hirol had left an indelible mark. Steel golems, even more intricate and impressive than the golems they had left behind in the higher levels, guarded stone tombs, silently vigilant just as they had remained for ages. Discarded tools revealed enchantments of a sort Velanna had never seen, lyrium woven expertly into the metal. The heat down here was almost unbearable; in one chamber, lava spouted from the ceiling itself, a river that had flowed since the dwarven kingdoms were whole, and would continue to flow for many years yet. She had a newfound respect for the accomplishments of the Children of the Stone, diminished as they might have become.
Deeper and deeper still they went. Velanna had no idea how far down they might be now, and it only seemed to keep going. How deep could one go before it ended? It seemed a foolish question to ask, but Velanna had not seen the sky in more than three days, and it felt as if the endless weight of all the stone above her head might collapse on her at any moment, or a fissure might open and spill lava into the passageways, killing them all in moments. Steam vented out of strange growths spouting from cracks in the ancient walkways, making her clothes stick to her back and her hair curl against her face.
She was grateful at least that only her boots were worse for wear, as far as being coated in darkspawn muck. Tabris, Oghren, and Sigrun had all been in close combat with the creatures, and there was only so much good a cursory wipedown could do. Water was only encountered by good fortune in the Deep Roads, and it wasn't safe to disrobe long enough for a proper washing. The Commander's hair was a stringy mess under her helmet, not quite long enough to be pulled back, nor short enough to keep out of the way, and Velanna could see how it vexed her. Anders usually had his long hair tied back anyway, but he fussed about not being able to shave, scratching irritably at the pale hair bristling on his chin. Even Nathaniel had given up the slightly fussy way he kept his hair, tying it into a functional knot at his neck. Black strands of it came loose around his face, sticking to the tacky sweat and grime, and his beard had grown in, shadowing his jaw darkly.
Sigrun, on the other hand, appeared to be totally used to this lifestyle, savoring water when they came by it, but steadfastly refusing to complain in the long stretches between. She supposed Sigrun and Oghren both were accustomed to living under miles upon miles of rock, as well. Oghren, a man already in the later years of his life, had not seen the sun until just the year before. Sigrun had in fact never seen the sun at all, and presumably never would, which seemed an incomprehensible way to live, to Velanna. She was dizzy with heat and growing claustrophobia, but just the thought of seeing daylight and taking in the natural warmth of the sun made her ache with longing. The thought of a cool, clean bath seemed an almost absurd luxury.
Velanna had been so lost to her daydreaming about several hours alone with a fine selection of scented soaps she almost didn't see how the hallways had contracted, growing closer and less navigable. When she took notice, it was because the growths of darkspawn corruption had grown almost impassably thick. They were forced to climb over thick ropes of it, hardly daring to touch it but unable to pass without doing so. Rosemary-scented, Velanna thought. When I get out of this. Rosemary and mint and lavender.
"I… I think the walls are breathing," she muttered, and she saw Anders shiver just ahead of her.
"Shh," the Commander said, stopping them where they stood. She looked around, alert, and Velanna tried to match her focus, as exhausted and battered as she was. She had taken her anxiety for a logical reaction to being trapped in an oppressively tight passage buried under miles of stone. Now she began to realize it was that feeling again, that pressing sensation, the creeping dread that forewarned of darkspawn. She strained her ears, listening. The walls heaved and spouted gusts of foul-smelling steam, but that was nothing unusual by now. What was beneath that? Where were they?
The sound of crunching, as loud as if it were coming from Velanna's own mouth, startled her so that she thought her heart might stop. Before she could do more than cry out, everything was dark, her face pressed hard into the oozing darkspawn muck under their feet. She choked, unable to breathe. Searing pain at her back and her ribs burst white and hot in her blindness. She wanted to scream, but darkspawn corruption filled her mouth. She recalled the Joining, how the blood had made every inch of her heave, how her mind had screamed for her to stop, and she thrashed, trying to break free of whatever held her. Something pierced her shoulder and let out a high sound like glass shards driving into her ears. For one terrible second, certainty washed over her: she was going to die, struggling, choking on filth.
Just as suddenly as it had overtaken her, the weight pinning her to the ground was wrenched away. She was still in agony, but she could move, and she rolled to her side, coughing up thick ribbons of muck. She tried to open her eyes, but they were caked in the same thick mess, and she wiped at it frantically, squinting through tears and filth.
The others were engaged with more of those twisted Children from before, though these seemed larger, their skittering little legs lengthening so that they towered over the dwarves in their party. Seriah was not much taller than either of them herself, and she had been surrounded on all sides by the bulk of the pack. She swept her blades around in an arc, trying to keep space between herself and the monsters to avoid being overtaken as Velanna had. A wave of magic washed over Velanna, and she looked over in surprise to find Anders pointing his staff in her direction. He winked. She couldn't find it in her to be irritated; cool, soothing, healing mana suffused her body for a moment, the worst of the pain abating long enough for her to get her bearings.
"Thank me later," he hollered, and turned back to focus his attacks on something behind her. She sat up to find Nathaniel struggling to hold at arm’s length one of the same creatures that had overwhelmed her. His bow had fallen to the ground at his feet; he kicked and thrashed beneath the monster, shutting his eyes and swiveling away to avoid the teeth that threatened to take off that proud nose of his.
Velanna groped blindly for her staff, gripped it tightly, and thrust it out before her without pause. Above Nathaniel, the creature went silent and still, its skin crusting over, grey and lifeless as a statue. It was still heavy, but it was no longer fighting, and Nathaniel shoved it away, scrambling backwards. Velanna drew more power, begging the stone around her to heed her command, the focus crystal glowed brilliantly green—
A boulder fell from the ceiling and stopped as if caught by some unseen hand, then launched itself with force at the petrified darkspawn abomination. The reaction was instant— it shattered into rubble at Nathaniel's feet.
Velanna breathed out heavily, then winced at the pain in her back making itself known once more. Nathaniel turned, his eyes wide at the sight of her, but she didn't have time to react. Digging her staff into the ground, she forced herself to her feet, turning back to the others who were still fighting for their lives. Several of the creatures lay dead at their feet. Oghren's helmet had been dislodged, and he'd a terrible gash across his forehead, blood streaking his face so that his entire head appeared to be bright red, unbroken except for the terrifying white of his eyes. Velanna threw a hex at the one trying to claw its way over Sigrun's back, and it lurched, landing on its side and allowing the Commander to catch it in the belly with a heavy downward swing.
The one Oghren was engaged with suddenly froze, ice snaking across its chitinous back and forming a brittle shell. One hit from Oghren's axe shattered it, leaving the vulnerable flesh beneath exposed. He struck again, and again, and again. The creatures were dead, the sounds of struggle quieting, except for the sound of his axe repeatedly striking ruined flesh.
"Oghren," the Commander barked, her breath short and ragged. "Oghren! Oghren, snap out of it!"
The commander clasped his shoulder, and reflexively, Oghren swung for her. A ragged gasp tore out of Velanna's throat, but Seriah met his axe with her swords, crossing them in an X and wrenching the weapon from his hand. That seemed to startle him awake, and he blinked rapidly. His own blood was caked in his eyelashes.
"You—" He grunted, as if he had forgotten her name and her title both. "Shit, I— I'm sorry, Warden, I didn't—" His shoulders drooped, exhaustion coming over him like a sudden weight.
"Are you here?" Oghren huffed, but nodded slowly. "You're hurt." Seriah pushed hair away from Oghren's brow, inspecting the gash above his eyes. He waved her away.
"I'm fine, quit your fussing."
She had heard Tabris speaking to Oghren quietly the night before, when they made camp inside an old tomb, of all places. (The door was sturdy, and it was free of corruption, so Velanna supposed the old dead dwarf would just have to be content with sharing.) Oghren had been gruff and reluctant, but he had spoken of someone named Branka, the woman Velanna gathered must have been his infamous ex-wife. It had only then become clear that when he said "ex-wife", what he meant was "deceased". Oghren was an unbearable pig on the best of days, but knowing what he and the Commander had been through together, it became easier to understand why his mind seemed to be miles away every time they went into battle, and why the Commander had taken such care with him.
"How about you?" Tabris turned now to Velanna, stepping over the gore heaped at her feet to see to her. "I was worried until I saw you up and casting again. They came out of nowhere... I usually have more warning than that."
Velanna's shoulder burned, and her ribs as well. She couldn't comfortably turn to see the damage, but she was certain her new armor was a ruin, if the creature had bitten deep enough to gouge flesh. Her entire front, from head to toe, was coated in grime. She'd need a hundred baths to wash away the disgusting feeling.
"Get me out of this accursed tunnel and I'll be better," Velanna said, and winced at the sound of her own voice. She normally didn't find the sound of her voice all that pleasant, but it was even worse now, thick and rough with abuse.
"Everyone needs to clean up a little so I can do better than a mid-battle patch job," Anders said. "A quick heal will do in a pinch, just to keep you from bleeding out in the field, but you'll need something more thorough if you don't want to look like raw mutton come morning."
Velanna saw that Nathaniel had retrieved his bow, and aside from a few scratches and a lot of dirt and grime, neither he nor it were any worse for wear. She was a little surprised to see him retrieve a dagger from the neck of the creature that had overtaken her. He wiped it off on the leg of his trousers, which were already too caked with gore to be saved, and tucked it into his boot. Her eyes met his, something undefinable passing between them. It was possible she owed him her life, though she hadn't known it when she rescued him in turn.
Nathaniel nodded, a tentative gesture. She turned away, eager to find the exit.
They found a relatively clean stone chamber to rest a moment in. It was small, but it was better than being encased on all sides by fleshy darkspawn cocoons, and once inside they all took the time to wash some of the worst of the filth and blood from their faces. Oghren emerged from the layer of blood caking his face looking like a person again, though the bags under his eyes had only grown darker. Velanna gargled a mouthful of water and spat it out, sad to waste it but in no hurry to swallow any more of the viscous filth coating her body than she already had. Anders had already set to healing Oghren's gash. Velanna gritted her teeth, wincing as she began to peel off her jacket and armored tabard, then the black leather shirt beneath those.
She almost laughed as she thought of the armorer, Wade, and his fervor for fitting her a new set of armor. It seemed he would have his chance, if they made it out of here alive.
"Here, let me," Sigrun said, and picked up the waterskin, bidding Velanna to sit down while she wet a rag and began to swipe blood and grit out of the puncture wounds in the meat of Velanna's shoulder. Velanna hissed— Sigrun was no gentle touch, but she was thorough. The water was blessedly cool on her skin, and she shivered as it rolled down her back. Her thin undershirt was already damp and tacky with sweat, and probably filthy, so a little bloody water couldn't possibly hurt it.
While Sigrun cleaned her back, Velanna attempted to more thoroughly clean her face, scrubbing away at her jaw and down her neck. It wasn't perfect, but it was so much better than nothing. She wished she could submerge herself in a lake and just let herself soak until all the impurity had leeched away. She was going to jump in the first clean body of water she saw as soon as they were on the surface again. She sighed just imagining it.
When she opened her eyes again, slightly cleaner and much happier for it, Nathaniel was watching her again. She blinked in surprise, and this time, he broke first, looking away in a hurry, as if it had been an accident. He was still very dirty, his face pink with exertion. She held up the rag and waterskin in her hand.
"Looking for these?" He turned back just in time to catch them as she tossed them his way. He looked almost lost before he glanced down at his hands.
"Oh— thank you," he said, and then, more quietly, "Velanna."
Velanna scoffed, waving him off. "You need it," she said. She could only imagine how much of that poisonous ichor was caked in his beard, and it was impossible to tell by the color alone. Disgusting.
Anders did a fine job healing her wounds; by the time he was done, the skin was whole and unbroken, the ache almost entirely gone. They rested a while longer, taking another perfunctory meal and catching their breath before they reluctantly strapped back into their gear and climbed back out into the darkspawn-infested tunnels. Velanna's armor was a wreck in the back, to be certain, but most of it was still whole, and it would serve until she could exchange it for something more suitable.
The tunnels opened up at last, and though the exit seemed merely to be a wider, cleaner tunnel, Velanna would happily take it. It was some kind of underground aqueduct, she guessed, as the stone pathway was flanked on either side by trenches of water, and she could hear water running far up ahead. They paused to refill their skins and have a drink, then set right back to marching up the pathway. It seemed to stretch on forever, but as they drew further down, Velanna began to feel an itching at the back of her consciousness. Closer, and she could hear what sounded like murmuring...
The Commander took the lead with Sigrun directly beside her, sending Oghren around to watch their flank, and began to step closer more cautiously, listening closely. The end of the tunnel opened up into a large room, the source of the sound of running water. Inside it was a golem larger than any moving creature Velanna had ever seen, larger even than one of the rare darkspawn ogres, steel-plated and glowing with runic flame. It slammed something to the ground and held it aloft in its great, burning fist— a figure. After drawing closer, it became easier to see that it was darkspawn. Standing before it, another darkspawn taunted and jeered.
"The Architect sends many, but does not come himself? He is a coward."
The Commander looked back, met their eyes. The Architect had sent darkspawn to war with other darkspawn?
"I will kill you, and he will know that he has failed to destroy the Lost. He will know that the Mother will tear him apart."
There was little time to wonder who the "Mother" was before the golem moved, lifting the darkspawn it held in both of its tremendous fists and—
Velanna covered her mouth as it tore the creature in two, as easily as one might skin a rabbit, its innards spilling out onto the wet stone floor. Velanna thanked the Creators that the sound of the rushing water was loud enough to disguise the sound.
"Who comes now," growled the other figure, peering its pale, beady eyes down the tunnel towards them. "I can feel you, but you are no darkspawn. What trickery is he planning?"
There was no sense hiding, now that they had been seen. Cautiously, holding ranks as long as the Commander bid them to, they came closer. Velanna could see now the twisting staff the darkspawn leader held. An emissary, then.
"You will die," it sneered, "as all who serve the Architect will die. The Mother demands it!"
"Take the mage out first," Tabris said quietly. "Avoid the golem as much as possible. If we can get its control rod—" The darkspawn lifted its arms and mana surged through it as it began to cast. Tabris shouted, "Don't let it cast!" before breaking formation, charging at it with her blades drawn. Sigrun barrelled in after her, trying to flank it. Velanna, Anders, and Nathaniel hung back, skirting the edge of the room, trying to stay out of melee range while Oghren remained to guard them as the golem stomped toward them, each massive metal footstep shaking the ground they stood on. Velanna looked past her feet and realized, stomach lurching, that it was merely a metal grate over rushing water. Great spouts of it burst from pipes in the walls and left the whole room damp and misty.
In a blink, flames erupted in the center of the room, a swirling storm of fire that rose halfway to their heads and stretched twenty feet across the center of the room. The golem was unaffected, and in fact seemed to thrive in the unbearable heat. Velanna pressed her back to the wall. They were sitting ducks, if the only place they had to run was back down the damned aqueduct. Across the room, Sigrun let out a cry— the flames had erupted near enough to where she stood that it had knocked her flat, her legs caught in the fire, her trousers beginning to catch. She scrambled backwards, trying to get to the water, but the golem seemed to have taken notice of her struggling, and slammed a fist in front of her path.
"Get away from her," Velanna snarled, and hurled a misdirection hex at the towering construct. It recoiled, its armored head shaking like a fly was buzzing around it. At the same time, Velanna saw Anders move next to her, and a barrier of sorts appeared, forming over Sigrun's legs like an overturned bowl. Anders thrust his staff downward, and the barrier collapsed on itself, the fire extinguished and leaving behind only a cloud of smoke and some badly singed armor. Velanna goggled. "What spell was that?"
"Little trick I learned in the Circle, tell you about it later," Anders chirped, dashing to the side just in time to avoid the golem, which had regained ts bearings enough to grab one half of the discarded darkspawn corpse and hurl it at them. Velanna leapt away with a cry, right into Nathaniel's side as he was lining up a shot. He caught on after a moment's stumble, grabbing her by the sleeve and tugging her along as they ran back towards the entrance.
"Take cover by the wall," he shouted over the sounds of battle. She wrenched her arm away, but followed his strategy, keeping close to one side of the entryway just as he did the other, lining up his shot again and trying to land a hit on the mage, who was actively grappling with the Commander, staff against swords. Something clanked against the grates— Oghren, who was beating the handle of his greataxe against it to draw the golem's attention.
"Over here, you hunk of junk," he shouted, raising his axe in the air. "Come get a piece of this!" It started to stomp towards him, great rumbling steps that made the floor quake. "Okay, sparkle-fingers, any time now!"
From the opposite side of the room, where Anders had dashed, a burst of cold— ice blanketed the floor in a sheet running from Anders' staff to the other side of the room, catching the golem just as it stepped. The brute lost its bearings, its feet going out from under it almost comically, and it landed on its back with a quaking boom. The force nearly sent Velanna to her knees, and she clutched the wall tightly. On the other side, Nathaniel had gone to his knee willingly. He draw back, loosed an arrow, and it sailed across the room, over the golem's prone form, to strike the darkspawn emissary in the eye.
The shot was impressive, but it was not enough to kill the beast. It screamed in pain, hurling a ball of lightning at the Commander and knocking her to the floor, where she twitched and jerked horribly. Sigrun rolled, apparently not so encumbered by the burns on her legs that she couldn't keep fighting, and with a well-aimed slice, hamstrung the the mage, sending it to its knees. She leapt up, digging her dagger into the beast's back savagely, and it screamed once more, recoiling strongly enough to send Sigrun staggering.
The Commander was down, but not out, and Velanna saw her stagger back to her feet unsteadily. Seeing the darkspawn on its knees before her, she didn't hesitate another moment, crossing her blades before her and cleaving its head from its neck in one powerful motion. Then Velanna could see them no longer, because the golem was righting itself, pushing itself back to its feet and swiveling its great helmet-like head, looking for a new target.
"Commander," Oghren growled. "Commander, it's still going…"
The death of its master had not stopped the golem. Perhaps it had no master at all, for Oghren's voice drew its rage just as easily as it had before. She hoped Tabris and Sigrun were searching the corpse for a control rod, but if they'd found one, she saw no sign of it yet.
"Oghren," Velanna shouted, hoping he could hear her across the din. "Get its attention! Try to get it under one of those spouts!" She raised her voice even higher, feeling it strain and crack, willing her voice to carry. "Anders, ice! Under its feet, again!" She had an idea, but it would need help if it was to make a dent in the construct at all.
"Do it," Velanna heard, from somewhere behind the golem and its firestorm. The Commander? Without delay, Oghren dashed for the nearest water spout, stomping on the grate and beating his axe against the wall, hollering at the golem to draw it closer. At the same time, Anders fired a second blast of cold, an even thicker layer of ice streaking across the floor. The golem was relentless, but not intelligent enough to avoid the trap, and it went sprawling, its hulking body crashing helplessly into the wall. Oghren threw himself to the ground, crawling out from under the canopy of the golem's body, dragging himself by the holes in the grates until he could scramble to his feet and truly run. The water cascaded over the golem, spraying violently as it blocked the stream.
Without a moment's hesitation, Velanna gathered as much mana as she could manage and released it in one great burst of electricity. The golem jerked violently, its flaming runes extinguished, its joints beginning to smoke… but it did not stop, its massive hands scraping and scratching at the wall, trying to upright itself. Her heart sank. A living foe might have been destroyed, but she had no idea how to defeat a being made of steel that thrived on fire.
But then the water from the spout began to slow and freeze, and so did the water sluicing from the great beast's back. The ice snaked its way into the creaking joints, into the helm that formed its head, down over the arms and legs, cracking and shattering and slowing it with every moment, until at last it let out a strange, unnatural roar collapsing to the ground, the enchantment broken. Its eyes darkened— dead, if such a being could truly die. With the death of the mage and its minion, the firestorm guttered out and extinguished. Her shoulders sank with relief.
They reconvened by the limp body of the emissary, Anders giving Sigrun's legs a once-over while she thanked him for his quick thinking.
"What was that trick?" Velanna thought to ask, remembering the stunt he'd pulled with the fire-dousing barrier.
He looked up from his casting, looking a little sly under the exhaustion. "Sort of an unholy union of a barrier and force magic," he said. "Never done one that big before! Usually it's more..." He cupped his hands together to show the small scale. "I was a little afraid I might accidentally crush your legs, Sigrun. Glad to see they're intact!"
Sigrun snorted. "Yes, my legs and I appreciate that."
Velanna frowned, trying to understand the value of a miniscule fire-extinguishing spell. "Do they use magic to douse candles in your Circle?"
"Not exactly." Anders smiled almost sheepishly. "Say, for example, one wants to partake of… substances," he said. "And perhaps one finds oneself in a situation wherein one needs to quickly extinguish a fire and perhaps contain any lingering smoke or aroma of said substance…"
"You can't be serious," Nathaniel muttered. Velanna frowned even deeper.
"They don't allow mages to smoke?" Pipes were common enough among the Dalish, though she didn't care for smoking herself.
"Not what I was smoking, they don't," Anders said. "Not when you're fourteen, anyway. Got a day in solitary for that one. You have to get creative to avoid getting caught. Which is ridiculous, by the way, it's a widely available herb with medicinal properties—"
"All right, thank you," Tabris said, clearing her throat. She looked ashen and exhausted. Velanna could only imagine how it felt to be electrocuted, and for her to be on her feet afterwards was a testament to her constitution. Anders rolled his eyes at her chastizing tone. "That is—thank you, Anders, that was very well fought. Well fought, all of you."
"Are you well, Commander?" Nathaniel asked. He looked just as tired as any of them, and while his voice was always a little on the rough side, it had grown even more gravelly with exhaustion.
"I'll be fine," she said, though her eyes softened a little towards him. "Let's move. If we stop to rest here, I'm afraid my legs might not want to keep working."
They looted what they could from the dead darkspawn, hoping for some sign of who or what it answered to, but the most worthwhile thing in its possession was its staff, which was of surprising quality and power given that it was a darkspawn weapon. Most darkspawn mages Velanna had encountered cast without the aid of a staff. If they had staves, they tended to be twisted, jagged things without the benefit of a good quality focusing crystal. This one was almost beautiful, with golden serpents carved into the shape of it. Velanna would not have been surprised if it was a relic predating this darkspawn minion by many years, stolen from a slain foe or otherwise looted from an abandoned battleground. The Commander gifted it to Anders, for his part in defeating the golem. Velanna did not begrudge him this, though the frustration of her plan not having the effect she intended grated on her. She was practically no use at all in this dwarven tomb.
"You did very well back there," Nathaniel said, as if he could read her thoughts only far enough to contradict them. She scoffed, avoiding his eyes.
"Don't patronize me," she said.
"I wasn't—" Nathaniel sighed, perhaps too exhausted to argue. "Fine."
Signs of the darkspawn corruption were evident in the hall leading out of the aqueduct chamber. The floors grew filthier and filthier, and the sense that something lay ahead grew the further they walked. Velanna was growing more confident in her ability to discern the darkspawn call from her other senses the more she used it, but she had never felt anything quite like this presence before.
Her heart leapt into her throat when suddenly, from the fleshy-growth oozing its way into their path, a cluster of tentacles burst forth. Oghren reacted the quickest, cleaving them all in two with a sweep of his axe, and the protrusions fell to the ground, flopping and convulsing like fish, gushing black blood until they finally stilled.
Sigrun and Tabris's eyes met. "One's up ahead, then," Sigrun said. Tabris nodded.
"A broodmother?" said Anders apprehensively. Oghren jabbed one of the limp tentacles with his axe.
"Watch out for those things," he said. "They can extend them pretty far. Farther than you'd think. Anywhere you see signs of the corruption, you watch out for a big, juicy tentacle."
Velanna had prepared herself for another great battle, based on the warnings from those of their party with firsthand experience. She had not been prepared for what she saw in the pit, nor for the smell. She gagged, holding her nose and covering her mouth, her stomach turning, and looked away.
"Creators," she choked. Nearby, Sigrun had her eyes shut tight.
"I...I'm afraid to look too closely," she whispered. "What if one of those creatures was someone I once knew?"
The Commander clasped her shoulder, her eyes fixed on the sight below them. Three of the creatures, from what Velanna had glimpsed. It was their great fortune that the monsters were out of reach, too deep in their birthing chamber to attack them, with no signs of their cursed offspring anywhere closeby.
Anders, however, had turned his focus to the ceiling. "What in Andraste's blessed name is that?"
Velanna followed his gaze to see… lyrium, an unbelievable quantity of it. Why on earth was it suspended from the ceiling like that?
Oghren whistled. "Looks like an old pulley from one of the mines," he said. "Loaded up that steel case and tried to haul it up. Must have been left behind when the thaig fell."
Nathaniel was squinting up at it as well. "It looks… it looks overgrown, somehow, like it broke out of the container. Does lyrium grow?"
"That much lyrium could kill an army," Anders said, a little awe-struck.
The Commander's focus had turned from the broodmothers to the chains keeping the pulley locked in place. She licked her lips. "Or three broodmothers," she said.
"Are you out of your skull?" Anders head whipped around to face her, his eyes wide. "I mean, yes, it'll probably kill them all. It might just as easily kill us and take down the whole chamber."
"We can't let them keep breeding," Sigrun said adamantly. "If you want, I'll stay down here to break the chains and make sure they die."
"No," the Commander said. "I said I intended to get everyone out. That includes you, Sigrun."
Sigrun shook her head. "I'm dead anyway, Warden! This is what the Legion does!"
"We can handle this," she said, and her tone brooked no argument. "How do we take down the chains? Can we get them hot enough to melt with magic?"
Velanna looked unsure. "I— I've never tried."
Oghren hefted his axe up onto his shoulder. "I've broken blades before, Commander. Let me give it a swing."
The Commander contemplated this plan for a moment. "If it ruins your axe, we'll get you a new one when we get back to Vigil's Keep."
Oghren's face broke out in a wide grin.
"Everyone," Tabris said, "Get back in the hall, away from the ledge. Mages, barriers up. Oghren, as soon as that thing falls, you run."
"Aye, ser!" Oghren crowed.
They took cover under the strongest barrier she and Anders could conjure, making use of what little liquid lyrium they had left in their stores, while in the main chamber, Oghren hacked at the chains. To Velanna's great surprise, one of the links bent, crushed against the stone pillar beside them, distorting with the weight until it snapped entirely. The store of lyrium swayed precariously, narrowly avoiding colliding with the ceiling, but it held.
Oghren ran to the other side, ready to swing again at another chain. Velanna's breath stilled in her lungs. He hacked, great powerful swings of his battered broadaxe. The lyrium lurched again, the low blue light dancing and swinging with it. With a cacophonous jangling, the chains gave way. Oghren ran, as quickly as his stout legs would carry him, and he dove down, into the barrier she and Anders held as strongly as they could just in time for the impact. The light was blinding, and Velanna shut her eyes tightly against it, gritting her teeth and willing her spell to hold until the sound of explosion and darkspawn screams faded and died. The ground lurched, but the platform held, and the ceiling didn't collapse. It just remained to be seen if the broodmothers were dead.
She and Anders dropped their barriers, and she breathed in, heaving with exertion. She blinked her eyes closed, trying to sense the presence she'd felt before.
She could not.
Sigrun was the first to her feet, peering over the edge at the destruction. She breathed a sigh of relief. "We did it." As the others got to their feet, Sigrun came back to clasp hands with the Commander in gratitude. "If the rest of the Legion were alive, I know… I know they would honor you in some way."
The Commander gave Sigrun's hand a firm shake. The relief was evident on her weary face. "I honor their sacrifice in turn. I'm sorry for your loss."
Sigrun smiled a little sadly. "I used to wish I could get away from the others. Now I'm all alone and I just want them back. Isn't that silly?"
Velanna's heart ached. She took Sigrun's meaning all too well.
"What's curious is that we seemed to be caught between two... factions of darkspawn. I've never heard of such a thing." Sigrun frowned, trying to make sense of it. "The darkspawn are by nature vicious, and they have always fought amongst each other. But for there to be two organized factions… this is something else."
Tabris released Sigrun's hand. "I've… met the Architect."
Sigrun looked like she didn't quite know how to parse that statement. "You… 'met' him? What's a meeting with a darkspawn like?" She put on what sounded to Velanna's ears like a poor mockery of Nathaniel or Anders' Fereldan accents. "'Ello, I'm a darkspawn, would you like some tea?"
The Commander couldn't help but cough out a laugh, as tired as she was. "What will you do now, Sigrun?"
"Oh, I'll probably disappear into the bowels of the Deep Roads, never to be seen again." Sigrun shrugged. "One good thing about the Deep Roads is that you never run out of darkspawn to fight."
"Perhaps you would consider coming with me?" Tabris looked quietly hopeful.
It made sense. Sigrun was an experienced fighter, especially when it came to darkspawn. If she was so intent on dying, what did it matter to her if darkspawn or the Joining ritual took her? Velanna frowned at the thought of that. No, Sigrun was sturdy, and she had somehow survived facing the darkspawn for this long without succumbing to the Taint. She would make a very suitable Grey Warden, if she chose to.
"Go… with you?" Sigrun looked as though the idea had never occurred to her, and Velanna supposed it wouldn't. How long did most Legionnaires survive, once they had been initiated? "But that would go against my vow," she said, "and my plan to disappear into the deep, unmourned and forgotten."
She certainly took a cavalier view on the value of her own life. More than her deathwish, it was her casual flippancy about it that stunned Velanna. Velanna herself had not expected to survive this quest. That at least she could understand.
"You're a fine soldier," Tabris said. "The Wardens are in great need of those. You are welcome, if you would join us."
Sigrun's blue eyes grew a fraction wider. "Be a Grey Warden? Is that allowed? Can you be both part of the Legion and a Grey Warden?"
"You could be the first," said Tabris.
"And I'd be more effective at killing the darkspawn, won't I? Ha!" Sigrun looked positively giddy now. "How does one say no to this?" She shook the Commander's hand again, more vigorously. "I will follow you. You seem an all-right sort, and I'm better off with you at my back than alone." She smiled widely, the bars of her skull tattoos splitting open with her grin, and while she wouldn't inspire anyone with her good looks, she was certainly enthusiastic. "Let's go then! The darkspawn await!"
Sigrun's energy seemed renewed. Velanna had no idea where she kept it all. Just watching her made her feel tired.
They were blessedly unharassed as they made their way out of the broodmothers' pit. Stairs and passageways drew them upwards for what seemed like miles, and eventually back out into an open cavern Velanna recognized as being the other end of the one they had first descended into almost a week past. It wasn't the surface, but she still could have cried, for she knew now how close they were to fresh air and freedom.
"Now, you might be in for a bit of a shock," Oghren said as they drew closer to the exit. "I got a little dizzy myself, my first time seeing the sky. I just want you to know, if you need something to hold onto, old Oghren's here to—"
Sigrun was not listening at all. She had already torn off running, out past the shadow cast by the stone fissure, up the ramshackle stairs and into the sunlight.
It was disorienting. Velanna had no concept of what time it was. The sun hung low in the sky, red and glowing like an ember, but one could not yet be sure if it was rising or setting. Even still, she relaxed to see it, all the held tension of the last few days bleeding out of her as her shoulders fell.
"Maker, thank you," Anders said. He fell to the ground and kissed the untainted earth, then spat, brushing dirt from his lips. "Blech. You know, it sounds so dramatic when they do it in stories, but it's really just gross."
Sigrun whirled around, taking in the sights. Velanna didn't think much of them— it was a rocky quarry, half-destroyed and populated mostly by dry underbrush and a few spare withered, wind-beaten trees. But Sigrun had never seen the sky until this moment, and the vastness of it sprawled out before her, seemingly endless.
Velanna glanced back at the sun, lowering her gaze to avoid hurting her eyes. It was indeed beautiful. The pinks grew fainter as the horizon stretched into pale periwinkle, gentleness to counter the Sun's vengeful red.
"Elgar'nan, Eldest of the Sun," she prayed under her breath. "Thank you for guiding me safely back to your light. I continue to faithfully walk your path."
Now she just needed the All-Father to guide her to the nearest bath.