There and Back Again Ch. 075-076

After our exertions, I had a bath myself, and fell in love with the bathing room. Not only did the runes pour hot water on demand, but metal pipes under the tub allowed it to be drained easily and without a mess. It was almost like having real plumbing, and I vowed to find someone to build me one wherever I ended up settling after the Blight was over.

When I came out for supper, I found a sober, pink-skinned, clean, angry, mostly naked dwarf standing in the main hall shouting at Mistress Leta, who just raised an unimpressed eyebrow and otherwise ignored him.

"Oghren," I called, repeating myself twice before I had his attention. "Stop shouting, would you?"

"You want me to stop shouting? I've been taken against my will, held here by this nug-humping harpy, and been assaulted-"

"You mean the bath? Well, yeah, sorry about that, but it was necessary. You were rather ripe. Listen, can we talk for a minute? After you get dressed. And then if you want to leave, I'll show you out."

He looked at me angrily. "By the ass of my ancestors, if you think I'm intimidated by a little bit like you..."

"Oghren, it's about Branka."

That shut him up. The rest of the group had come running at the sound of his shouting; seeing that he'd been pacified, Duncan offered him a place at the table for dinner, and Oghren reluctantly accepted and got dressed in some clothing provided by Mistress Leta.

Oghren and Gorim exchanged cool nods, and I saw Gorim's lips thin. He's not going to like it when Oghren comes into the Deep Roads...

"I know you," he said to Duncan, around a mouthful, a few minutes later. "You're the Grey Warden Commander. I saw you here a few years ago." Duncan nodded in acknowledgement, then introduced everyone else. "So when are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

Duncan gestured to me, and I sighed, wiping my face and reluctantly pushing aside my half-finished plate. "We're going after Branka, Oghren. Well, sort of. We're going into the Deep Roads because we need a Paragon to break the stalemate between Bhelen and Harrowmont. I know where Branka is, and she is still alive. I figured you might want to come."

"You're going into the Deep Roads? How? They've not even been letting the Legion scouts back in. Without a sodding arse on the throne, no one's been able to get the Council to agree to open the doors."

"I know, but both Bhelen and Harrowmont want Branka found. One of them will get us a pass."

"Wha'dya want with me? How do you know where Branka is? If you know where she is, you don't need anything from me."

"Long story, Oghren. And I'll tell you everything, once you've agreed to come."

"Fine, fine. Ol' Oghren will be there. Always did want to find out what happened to that woman."

Duncan spoke. "Get what you need and come back in the morning, then, Oghren. Sierra can explain while we walk."

I rolled my eyes; Duncan refused to believe we'd have to do something else before getting into the Deep Roads. Mind you, it had taken me hours to convince him we'd have to take part in dwarven politics at all, so I shouldn't have been surprised. And who knew -- maybe Duncan would be able to cut through some of Harrowmont's bull. I wouldn't be sad -- while the Carta sort of sucked, fighting through it wasn't something that really appealed to me, I had to admit.

Alistair, Aedan, and I accompanied Duncan to the meeting with Lord Harrowmont. They greeted each other by name, clearly having met before. The stocky dwarf nodded to the rest of us as we were introduced, and we all sat down in his large, luxurious study to talk.

Harrowmont thanked us for our performance in the Proving, gushing over Aedan's remarkable skill. He then began his typical story of woe, which I knew would lead to him implying that if we cleared out the Carta, he would become King. Even had I not known the truth, it was obvious he was lying. Duncan let him get half-way through his explanation before cutting him off.

"Stop there, Lord Harrowmont. We have known each other a long time, and I think you know I won't be doing your dirty work for you. I have a proposition for you, but I warn you, should you turn me down, I'll not hesitate to present the same opportunity to Prince Bhelen."

Harrowmont sputtered, totally offended; I wanted to cheer. Forceful Duncan is awesome.

Duncan waved away his complaints, cutting in. "I know that Bhelen is likely the least honourable of dwarves. I also know that, regardless of King Endrin's wishes, you do not have the support to maintain the throne, even if you were granted it. We believe there may be another who can satisfy the Assembly's need for Aeducan blood on the throne, but also not bring dishonour to Orzammar."

"There was, old friend, but perhaps you have not heard -- Sereda Aeducan was exiled."

"I am aware. I believe, however, that she yet may live. If that is the case, and it is possible to find her, we both know what needs to be done: she will need the approval of a Paragon.

"What I propose is this: you give us a pass into the Deep Roads. We find Sereda, if it is possible, and the Paragon Branka. Once we have Branka's backing, Sereda can return to Orzammar and take the throne." He lowered his voice. "I know she respected you, Pyral, and that you cared for her. I know Endrin came to regret sending her into exile. I believe you have the best interests of Orzammar at heart, and I think you can see the potential for disaster that comes with either you or Bhelen ascending the throne. She is the moderate choice, the one who can unite both sides, especially with the explicit backing of the only living Paragon."

Harrowmont sat quietly for a few minutes, deep in thought. "And if you cannot find Sereda?"

Duncan grimaced. "I don't know. I would prefer not to choose. I suppose we shall leave it up to the Paragon."

"And if I say no?"

"I will lie to Bhelen, tell him I shall find Branka for him, and then look for Sereda anyway. I am certain I can convince him to give us the Deep Roads pass."

Harrowmont stood and paced his study, hands clasped behind his back. We waited in silence, exchanging anxious glances. Alistair squeezed my hand.

Finally, Harrowmont sat back down. "You're a bastard, Duncan of the Grey. But you've got stones, I'll give you that. If you can find Sereda, I'll give her my total backing. If not, you'd better hope that the Paragon chooses me." He glowered at Duncan, leaving the 'or else' hanging. I wasn't worried -- I knew that if we chose Bhelen, Harrowmont would be executed before we had the need to worry.

Agreement in hand, we excused ourselves, and Dulin showed us out of Harrowmont's estate. Duncan planned to go to the Shaperate to look for maps of the Deep Roads -- we had Gorim's, but more was always better, and we'd promised Shale we'd try to find Cadash Thaig while we were down there, which didn't show on the maps we had. We didn't want to have to come back through Orzammar again once she recalled the location later.

The rest of us headed back to the compound. I was worried -- I'd repeatedly done the math, and realised that this had been the longest stretch I'd been on Thedas since I'd first starting coming. I was afraid I'd disappear in the Deep Roads, and I didn't want to do that.

Sensing my mood, if not the cause, Alistair brought me to our room, carried me to bed, and made love to me until I was too exhausted to stay awake worrying. I finally passed out sprawled across his muscular chest with a sated smile on my face.

Chapter Seventy-Six: Ruthless Necessity

When I woke to the sound of electronic equipment beeping, I swore out loud. I should have known better than to think too hard about returning to Earth. I wondered where I'd find myself when I returned -- somewhere alone in the Deep Roads? Left behind in Orzammar? I looked around; it was light outside, and sunlight was streaming through the window in the room I shared with three other hospital beds. All three showed signs of occupation, but no one was around.

I was grateful to find myself dressed in clothing again, and briefly wondered if it was normal to tip a 'guardian' who followed instructions exceptionally well. I sat up and laced on my boots before wandering out into the hallway. I found a nurse sitting at the desk out front; she was surprised to see me, and her face went pale when I walked up to the desk. Her eyes searched my face, and I wondered what on Earth she could be so scared of. I told her I was heading to the gift shop, and she nodded; I didn't ask for more details, not sure I wanted to know until I saw my doctor again.

The elderly gift shop manager I'd spoken to before was in, fortunately, and had done me an enormous personal favour of going to an electronics store and buying me a solar device charger with an adaptor for my iPhone. He'd tried to order one through the store, but when that hadn't panned out, in a fit of compassion for a coma patient who wasn't allowed to leave the hospital and had no family to speak of, he went to a Best Buy and purchased one. He figured he'd give it to his grandson for his birthday if I never returned for it.

It was expensive -- much more than the little rechargeable ones I'd bought previously -- but I figured it would be worth it to keep access to my music more permanently. Not that it would help in the Deep Roads...I turned back around and bought another of the smaller, ten dollar chargers as well.

Those things done, I returned to my room and spent the next few hours trying to wish myself back to Thedas. I never saw my doctor, and so dodged the lecture I was sure he'd have given me otherwise.

******

It must have worked, because I woke up looking at a stone ceiling. I wasn't in a bed, however, and my first thought was to panic -- was I alone somewhere in the Deep Roads?

A gruff voice coming from off to my left reassured me that at least I wasn't alone.

"Oi, you there. Topsider. What are ya doin down there?"

I looked over, to see a very old, very jaundiced, casteless dwarf. He had a large brand across his forehead, around one eye, and covering one cheek; he was so wrinkled that I couldn't even guess what shape the dark splotch was meant to be. His teeth were yellow and several were missing as he gave me a creepy grin.

"Where am I?"

"Ah, little too much grog at Tapsters, I'd guess? Yer in Dust Town, sweetness. Pacifically, you're in my alley."

That explains the smell, then. It took significant effort not to correct him and say 'specifically'. I suppressed a smile and sat up.

I was wedged between two stone walls, and the ceiling hung low above; nothing like the fifty or eighty foot ceilings in the commons. I could only barely see the opening to the narrow alley past the filthy dwarf blocking my path.

"I'm very sorry, Ser. If you move, I'll get out of your alley right away."

I worked my way slowly to my feet, trying not to startle him.

"Oh, now, I'm not so sure I can let the insult stand, skyer. I have a reputation, after all. I might require some sort of...award."

I assumed he meant reward. "I can help with that! Come with me, and when I get to the Grey Wardens, I'm sure they'll be happy to give you some coin for helping me out. What do you say? Give a girl an escort to the Diamond Quarter?"

He leaned casually against the wall, evaluating me. And clearly blocking my path. I started to get really nervous. "Well, yer not a Grey Warden, so why would they want you back?"

"My brother is a Grey Warden. He's a human noble, too. He'll pay handsomely for aiding me, I assure you."

"That so." He spat, and I twitched, trying to avoid the disgusting gob flying toward my feet. "Well, in that case, I think I've got someone who'd like to meetcha."

He lunged, suddenly, wrapping one broad, stubby hand around my upper arm. Realising he wasn't going to let me go, I dropped down into the stance Zevran had taught me; I was slightly off balance without armour, but I managed not to fall. I grabbed his wrist, pivoting and shifting my hips, tossing him over my shoulder to land on his face on the stone. I had assumed, given his age, that he'd be down for the count; he surprised me with his agility, springing up underneath me, twisting and sweeping my feet out from under me. I went down with a grunt; unarmed, I was a one trick pony, and when my head stopped spinning from the goose egg I could feel forming on my occiput, I realised he was poised above me, a wicked-looking improvised shiv held threateningly in front of my face.

I put my hands out, carefully, to the side, palms open outward. "Okay, okay. You got me. No need to shed any blood. I'm worth less to you damaged."

He grabbed my arm again, wrestling me to my feet, the point of the improvised knife never far from my skin. I cursed the stupidity of showing up in Thedas in jeans and a sweater, wishing I'd had armour made on Earth. Mind you, that's one sure way to get a free one-way trip to the psych ward. I huffed in frustration.

"Alright, who are we going to meet?"

"You've never met'er, sweetheart, but her name's Jarvia."

My heart dropped. Why am I even surprised?

**

We walked through dust town, ducking from shadowy corner to shadowy corner, while I frantically looked for an opportunity to escape, or even draw attention to myself. I didn't expect any of the casteless to come to my aid, but if even a rumour of a human being manhandled in Dust Town reached Solona, I figured she might at least come looking. The streets were quiet, though, and the knife against my skin prevented me from anything like escape.

We reached a plain door, and my captor kicked the door twice, hard. The door was around an inconspicuous corner, hidden from prying eyes; the sound echoed, but no one would be able to see us. We waited a few minutes, and he kicked again, harder this time.

A little window I hadn't noticed slid open, and I could see one suspicious eye looking through at us; given my height, he was staring right at my chest.

"What?" the man behind the door demanded.

My captor shifted us sideways so he could be seen. "Open up, dimwit. Got someone the boss is gonna wanna meet."

"Where's yer damn key, Tooth?"

"Got my hands full, dummy! Lemme in!"

With a bit more grumbling, the window slid shut and the door opened. I was pushed roughly through the opening into a dimly lit corridor, not even tall enough for me to stand straight. Was it this bad in game? I'm pretty sure I dragged Shale through here, and she wouldn't fit even on all fours. I bent over slightly, stumbling as I was pushed from behind and the door swung shut. I found myself facing two armed, ugly, casteless dwarves.

"Move, sweetheart," my captor said, pointing down the hall.

I scurried along, hunched over, following the doorman, cursing my height for what had to be the first time ever. I was soon lost -- we passed multiple doorways and took several turns; I couldn't keep track of the way we'd come, and I almost wondered if he'd doubled back on himself a time or two just to confuse me. I knew where I must be -- the Carta hideout in Dust Town should be the only place this insanely large and convoluted. I was proven right when we finally stepped through a door and came to a halt in front of a dark-haired, female casteless I recognised right away -- Jarvia.

The room was cold, and still dim, though slightly brighter than the hallways had been. The walls, floor, and ceiling were stone, of course, but there was a colourful, thick rug covering much of the floor, and shelves and cupboards lined the walls. There were a few books, but otherwise the shelves were covered in an odd assortment of random stuff. There were weapons -- old and rusty, for the most part -- a few swords, some daggers, and a shield; there were a few small, ornately carved boxes; there was a small collection of utensils that looked to be genuine silver, if the tarnish was anything to go by, as well as a beautiful silver teapot; there was a plate, which I'd guess had been hand painted by an artist of renown, as the work was beautiful, if faded from age; there was a lute and a set of pan pipes; on one shelf, there was even what appeared to be a rolled up tapestry.

And then it occurred to me -- they weren't a random collection of strange stuff, they were trophies. Maybe things taken from bodies, maybe things taken from homes as collateral or punishment. They were displayed here as a reminder to anyone who entered what would happen to their things if they got on the Carta's bad side.

Jarvia looked up from the desk she was sitting at, her eyes slowly travelling over my still form. I was finally able to stand straight -- the ceiling in what I assumed was her office was almost normal height for a human house -- and I stiffened as she examined me coldly. Finally her eyes turned to the man holding a knife to my side.

"Explain," she barked.

Tooth -- a nickname, I assumed -- jumped and stuttered. The doorman had waited outside; we were alone. "Found this one passed out drunk in my alley, lady Jarvia. Figgered you'd wanna see 'er -- she says her friends got coin. I thought...this would pay my debt, wunnit? She's worth more'n what I owe."

I sighed; of course, the dwarf owes a debt to the Carta. I should have known.

Jarvia stood, stroking her chin thoughtfully. "Who're your friends, human?"

Deciding that looking cowed in front of a predator like Jarvia was only going to get me eaten, I straightened up, threw my shoulders back, and went for cocky competence. "I travel with the Grey Wardens. I'm sure they'd pay you handsomely for your assistance in ridding me of this..." I looked at the pathetic man who'd reduced me to this, "...cretin."

Jarvia actually laughed; a full-bodied sound accompanied by most unladylike snorting. "Oh, you I like." She turned to Tooth. "Keep your nose clean, and we're even, Duster." She nodded and pointed at the door; he left, closing it behind himself. I got just a glimpse of two, more heavily armed dwarves standing outside the door before it closed.

Trying to maintain my bravado, I sat nonchalantly in a nearby rickety wooden chair. "So, if you just give me some parchment, I'll write a quick note to my friends. How much coin do you think is a respectable reward?"

She blinked at me, and then smirked as she sat back down behind her desk. "Your friends have gone into the Deep Roads, I'm afraid. No ransom is forthcoming for you."

I felt a trickle of pure panic down my spine. Suppressing it, I shifted my weight in what I hoped was a haughty way. "Not all of them. One of the Wardens, Solona, and some of our companions will still be here, waiting. You could send word to her." I just hope Aedan left her some gold!

"Oh, I'll send word, deary. Don't you worry. But not for coin -- I have plenty of that, and the little a ransom would get me isn't worth my time. However, there is something the Wardens have that I could use -- influence. I'm thinking it won't be hard to convince them to play along. What do you think?"

I wanted to cry; coin, we could give her, as we could always earn more somehow. I just hoped Solona would be smart enough not to get in too much trouble, especially when she had to know that if she waited a while, I'd disappear again.

Jarvia appeared to be waiting for a response; when it seemed I wasn't able to think of one, she moved on. She got up and went to the door, opening it a crack and gesturing. The two burly dwarves standing outside entered. One had dark hair and a small goatee, the other was shaved bald, but had a black, bushy beard. They both had tattoos displayed prominently across their cheeks, and icy expressions. Jarvia walked over to a cupboard against the wall, opening it without allowing anyone to see inside. When she turned around, she held a small lump of metal in her hand; I couldn't make out the details.