Chapter Three

The Deep Roads were not what I expected. Everyone spoke about how spectacular Orzammar was, but the Deep Roads were equally grand. The road to our first stop, Caridin's Cross, was wide enough for two wagons to pass each other. I had expected to be holding a lantern, but the path was well lit from above. The ceiling was also higher than I had anticipated.

The road itself was made of smooth travertine of an amber colour. It stretched in a straight line as far as the eye could see. And it was well traveled. Groups of dwarves were coming to and going out of Orzammar. The groups leaving were mostly family groups with a mixture of young and old as well as both sexes. Those coming to Orzammar were mostly men, merchants and teamsters by their look, bringing back goods. Mixed through them all were hard bitten men with the appearance and attitude of warriors.

Once we had walked a few hours the traffic began to thin. Gervais asked the Commander where they were all headed.

She replied, “The dwarves have reclaimed part of their empire up to Bownammar. These people are resettling the thaigs nearest Orzammar. A few are settling a line of new thaigs along the Dead Trenches as well, poor souls.”

I asked, “What's a thaig?”

“A thaig is like a colony. It's a smaller settlement of dwarves established for a purpose. Some thaigs grow food. Others support a mining effort or a manufactory. Before Bhelen became king the dwarves were confined to Kal Sharok and Orzammar. A city can not sustain itself, it needs a hinterland to support and provide population growth. The dwarves have been dying by inches until very recently.”

Palin asked, “What are the Dead Trenches?”

She answered, “Our destination, Bownammar is the only easy way to cross them. They are vast crevasses that split the underworld. There are always Darkspawn down in them.”

She then moved into lecture mode about Dwarven history. My mind drifted. I had once seen a blond man almost as good looking as Anders. Who had that been?

I was happily lost in somewhat incoherent point by point comparison of King Alistair and the mage Anders when the Commander stopped talking. She also stopped walking. Only by sheer force of will did I not walk into her.

Ahead of us was the sorriest group of dwarves I had seen to date. There were five of them , all male, and they all looked as though they had seen better days. They were deep in a discussion about something when one of them, an amazingly crooked little man, spotted us.

The lot of them fanned out in a line to face us. They were all dressed in scraps of leather. They were mostly armed with knives although one man had two large rocks for weapons.
The tallest dwarf puffed out his chest, brandished a stone club and said, “Stop right there! Hand over your valuables and we'll let you live.”

Gervais opened his mouth and then closed it. Palin looked dumbstruck. The Commander was one pace ahead of us. I couldn't see her face very well but her body began shaking slightly. Her arm twitched as though she wanted very much to put her fist in her mouth to keep from laughing.

After a long moment, she drew a deep breath, exhaled and said, “Are you sure you want to commit suicide by Grey Warden?”

The five little men all went white. The man with the rocks dropped one on his foot and began a furious series of hops.

Their leader looked at us again, calculated and replied, “Err, not really, but we haven't much choice, so there you are.”

The Commander grew serious, “If you go past us about three hundred paces there's a turn off. Follow that path a half days travel. There's a thaig there that was cleared but hasn't yet been reclaimed. It was still over run with nugs a week ago.”

“Thank ye kindly. We'll check it out.”

“The legion will still take you, you know.”

“We're desperate, but not that desperate. Not yet at least.”

“Good luck then.”

“Ancestors bless you, Wardens.”

They stood well to the side while we passed. After a minute I turned and saw them walking down the passage arguing.

Palin asked, “What was that about?”

“King Bhelen has been recruiting the casteless to fight the Darkspawn. Sometimes they desert.”

“Casteless?”

The Commander resumed her walk and her lecture. She was going on at length about Brewmothers. I didn't know the Darkspawn made ale. Maybe that was how they spread the taint?

I had come to the conclusion that Anders was fairer than the king. They sounded similar as well, I thought, but it was hard to be sure. I had only heard the king the one time and he was far away. Anders also sounded like someone I had met. For some reason I thought of armour. Who was it?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The Commanders voice broke through my fog. I realized that the others had stopped and were looking at me with some amusement. Palin and Gervais both snickered. I flushed.

My mother had always counseled boldness. She pointed out I was the third daughter and there was no money or land to go with me. She told me to make my own way. Brazen or not, I needed to know.

“The mage Anders, is he married?”

The Commander smiled slightly. “So far as I know, he is still single. It hasn't been for lack of effort, however. He's a good man. The woman who lands him will have quite the catch.”

We had moved slightly ahead of the men.

“What about yourself?”

“You don't know? Maker be thanked, I guess gossip does die down eventually. I'm single. And not interested in Anders. My choices down here are limited. There seems to be a marked lack of eligible elves down in the Deep Roads.”

I was curious to know what she meant about gossip, but something in her tone told me it was better not pursued.

We were all sensing darkspawn with reliability at this point. Every time we sensed them we would pursue the trail, kill them, burn the bodies as best we could and return to the main road. We ran into six small bands in the three days it took us to reach the crossroads. The commander did none of the fighting. She would appraise the situation, then instruct us in how to go about it. Afterwards she would critique our style and offer suggestions.

The last day of that leg of the journey we came across a band under more unusual circumstances. They were standing in the middle of a fog lit by a dull glow similar to what we had seen in Orzammar. The Commander warned us to beware of the lava, which is what dwarves call molten rock. She then raised her staff and two of the darkspawn, a genlock and a hurlock toppled over. The remaining eight stood in the fog, unmoving. The three of us rushed in and discovered several more lying on the ground at their feet.

The darkspawn did not respond to our presence. We cut the standing ones down and they died without protest.

Palin called, “Commander, there's something odd here.”

She joined us in the fog. A moment later she and Gervais both said, “Lyrium!”

She added, “Out, all of you out. These are lyrium vapours.”

Gervais moved as though he were scalded. Palin and I moved a bit slower.

The Commander then went and carefully stabbed each of the prone Darkspawn until she was certain they were all dead. The last one twitched a bit, caught her foot and she stumbled slightly. I heard her sharp intake of breath and then it too was dead.

Normally she had a resolute stride. She was staggering when she left the fogbank.

“I think I breathed too much of it. I'll need two of you to help me.”

Gervais got under one of her arms and I went under the other. She was lighter than I expected. She was also shorter. We carried her for a few hundred paces and she gasped, “Stop. We'll rest here. My head is too clouded for travel right now.”

Gervais had already pulled a blanket from his pack and was wrapping it around her. Her eyes were blazing and her skin was flushed.

“Why am I always stuck with shemlen and durgenlen?”

Palin started to say something, but Gervais laid his hand on the knight's arm.

He said gravely, “She's lyrium addled. It's a lot like being drunk, but more weepy. We have to keep her warm and stop her from doing magic. Once she comes down a bit, I'll try to draw some of her mana off of her.”


“Magic would be bad right now.” She agreed, “Magic has been bad, is bad, will always be bad. Magic sucks. Whatever you do, don't become mages. You'll have to go live in a tower, even if you don't like heights.”

Palin smirked a little. I noticed Gervais was taking this seriously.

“Is she in any danger?”, I asked.

“It's pretty serious. I don't think she got a lethal dose. But if she does a spell, it could be catastrophic. She has no control right now.”

“Fireballs would be bad. Boom!” Her arms had spread wide and she toppled over. “So would freezy spells. I could freeze everything. I could freeze everyone.” She was making small wind noises.

Gervais told her, “Freezing people would be very bad.”

“People are bad. Especially men. Men suck. Blond men suck. Blond elves suck. Blond men suck more. They ask you to suck their sceptre then get all mad at you for not killing their father in law.”

She looked at me and said with great emphasis “Never get involved with a blond man. They are all bastards. Royal bastards. Royal blond bastards. Big blond bastards. But not as big as he thinks he is.” She snorted at this. “He doesn't know Zev was just as big. Gotta love Crows. I wanna massage.”

I was massively embarrassed. I was positive I didn't want to hear this.
Gervais didn't either. He took a deep breath, did something sparkly with his hands and she toppled over. Her breathing was regular and she was crying, but she was asleep.

A few hours later she rolled, groaned and looked at us.

“How long was I out?”

Gervais answered, “About three hours or so. How do you feel?”

“Like I was lyrium poisoned. Thank you. You did well back there.”

“You're welcome, Commander.”

“Call me Arwen, my name is Arwen. Now that you know all my secrets, we may as well use our first names.”

“You didn't say much that made sense,” I assured her.

She snorted and said “Good,” then stood up and walked around a bit.

“Let's get moving. There's an inn at Caridin's Cross. I'd like to spend the night in a bed if at all possible.”