"I don't get it," Bartrand grunted, walking alongside his brother. "Nothing in this thaig makes sense." Varric was taking in the sights as they moved, scratching his stubbled face. "Tell me about it." They stopped at the base of a flight of stairs, the elder brother beginning to pace back and forth, thinking aloud. "We're well below the Deep Roads. Whatever dwarves lived here, they came long before the First Blight." He threw up his hands as if to point out how horribly off everything was. "But where are the statues of Paragons? I don't recognize these markings on the wall or anything in the rubble."
"Unlikely, I know," Varric offered, "but it's possible this thaig is from an age in which dwarves weren't mired in tradition." Bartrand nodded, seeming agreeable to the idea. "These dwarves might have been unique. If so, I hope they kept their valuables close at hand." They continued on, up the stairs and past where a few of the expedition were gathered, including the boy Sandal and the merchant Bodahn, the latter of which was still keeping a hand on his boy's shoulder as if to ensure he would remain in sight for the remainder of the trip. Sandal had wandered rather close to Rilien for much of the journey since the group had found him among the darkspawn, and he was close to the Tranquil now. Bodahn seemed to be content just being wherever Sandal was.
"I need to thank you again," Bodahn said to the Tranquil, for perhaps the third time, "I still can't believe you found him." Sandal offered a tentative "'Ello!" to Rilien as well, as he seemed wont to do when Bodahn began speaking to anyone. "I owe you a great debt," Bodahn continued, "I will repay it somehow--I swear my life on it!"
"Unnecessary," Rilien replied, shaking his head. He wasn't much in the habit of taking coin for things he had not agreed to do for coin, and if the distinction made sense only to him, well... it wouldn't be the only thing. He wasn't in need of anything, at least not anything Bodahn could provide him with, though there was the matter of Sandal. Blinking languidly, Rilien cast a glance in the boy's direction at his greeting, and nodded one in return. It was obvious that the lad was talented, but he did not imagine that the life of a travelling merchant gave him much opportunity to refine his craft, and that seemed suboptimal at best.
"What do you intend to do after the expedition concludes?" the Tranquil asked, in the same placid tones he used for everything. He, of course, had plans upon plans, for several contingencies, besides. It was simply the way his mind worked, and factoring in several new variables was yielding better results than even he had expected. Of course, there were a number of contingencies at work, but if it were the case that the dwarf and his son would not be leaving the vicinity of Kirkwall, all three of them might benefit in some measure.
"Depending on how the expedition pans out," Bodahn explained, "we'll probably remain in Kirkwall for a time. We've already been contacted by a number of individuals interested in my boy's enchanting services, some very high up in the city indeed. As for myself, I think some time settled down is much needed, after my years on the road. Yes, I think we'll stay around for a while."
Rilien let a few more steps pass in silence before he spoke, tilting his head to the side so as to glance between father and son. "I plan to purchase a storefront in Kirkwall. I enchant and fabricate alchemical mixtures, myself. I think that Sandal could make use of an opportunity to grow in his craft, and I expect that any such place as I buy could make good use of a person with the social skills to work the counter. Oftentimes, people are disinclined to speak with me. I would not object to you continuing to do your own business on the premises, either, if you should find that arrangement satisfactory. Any work Sandal does, he would be free to profit from. Likewise with yourself." He let the offer hang there, apparently not feeling the need to press for an answer at that moment.
Rilien, while quite sure that there were yet things he could teach Sandal, was also interested in what he might learn, but in the end, he would have enough things to occupy him even if they refused. Still, the idea of having someone else to run both aspects of such an enterprise should he need to be absent for days at a time was a good one, and might well help the lot of them maintain steady clientele, something he was certain would appeal to the dwarf's business sense. Even so, he was not one to insist.
Bodahn considered for a moment. "That sounds like a very interesting opportunity, if I do say so myself. We will certainly consider it, though of course such a decision is not to be made immediately. I would very much like to speak further about that upon our return to Kirkwall, once we know just what we'll find down here." The Tranquil nodded, content with the answer.
Eventually, the scouting party that had cleared their way here was gathered once more, Bartrand accompanying them this time as well. Though the entrance to the thaig had been fascinating and extremely confusing, a more organized push into the thaig was necessary in order to find something valuable. Thus the group pushed onwards, deeper into the thaig, Varric and his elder brother leading the way. "Hmm," Varric mused to the party. "Whatever's through here, it seems still intact. I wonder if we'll find anything..." Ithilian had his bow drawn already, experience teaching him that there was little point sheathing weapons when in the Deep Roads. He was thinking something more along the lines of I wonder if anything will find us, but refrained from putting words to it. Varric shrugged. "Hmph. I suppose we'll need to go down there to find out." That earned a small sigh from Nostariel, but she was otherwise silent on the matter.
Sparrow whistled soft and low, squinting her eyes. Her mace bounced leisurely across her shoulder, loosely held in her hand. How long have they been down here already? The thaig was an endless maze of twists and turns, thick with darkness. She would've been lying if she said she didn't miss the fresh air, or the scorching sun on her back. Everything felt heavy, as if a substantial cloud of smog was pressing against her shoulders. She jostled towards the front, idling beside Nostariel, but only remained still for a moment. Her confidence had always been staggeringly reckless, and so Sparrow was the first to step forward, heedless of danger, clutching perilously off Varric's words â they may find something down there, they might. Much in the same mindset as Sparrow, Ashton too missed the sun. Plus the grass, trees, birds. Really, he missed everything but dirt and rock. Still, he was right beside her as she recklessly strode forward. He wasn't a coward... Most of the time, but he needed somebody's bravery to latch on to and push himself forward. Rightly so that it had been Sparrow's. He covered her side with a drawn bow as they stepped forward into the forgotten thaig.
Lucien, for his part, seemed to bear the monotony of the landscape with an easy sort of nonchalance, and seemed content to linger somewhere in the middle of the group, which given his height did nothing to impede his monocular view of what was going on. From somewhere in the caravan or perhaps from Bodahn, he'd procured a one-handed axe to compliment his shield, which now hung from a loop in his belt, though the metal disc remained strapped to his left forearm. It wasn't what he'd prefer to be bringing into battle, but it would do nicely for present purposes. He'd returned Rilien's knife to the Tranquil, quite insistent that the man have it back. Lucien could use it well enough, but where Rilien was concerned, the blade was simply an extension of his arm. He'd rather walk into another fight with nothing but a shield to his name and a fully-armed Rilien, if it had come down to that. It had happened similarly before.
The group moved forward on their guard, but for the moment it appeared unnecessary, for nothing seemed to stir this far beneath the surface. And yet, despite how silent the walls were, the sounds of their feet echoing throughout the chambers they passed through, the entire thaig felt remarkably alive, like the stone itself had taken note of their trespass, and disapproved. Bartrand didn't notice, or didn't care, and led them onward, picking up the pace slightly as he went.
After some time they passed through a single heavy stone door and entered a large room glowing with red light seemingly emanating from the walls. The centerpiece of the room was a rectangular altar set upon a raised platform towards the rear, a set of stairs flanked by imposing columns guiding them to it. The party filtered into the room, Varric pushing forward towards the altar the quickest, Bartrand remaining by the door, taking in the ominous feeling the room naturally gave off.
Varric slowed to a stop before the altar once he'd reached the top, his head barely reaching over it enough to see what was placed upon it. "Are you... seeing what I'm seeing?" he asked of Nostariel next to him.
"I think so," the Warden murmured by way of reply, eyes fixed on the object on the altar. Was it just her, or was that malificient feeling in the room emanating from that... thing? She didn't know properly what to call it, but it seemed to be at once magnetic and repulsive to her, like something particularly grotesque from which she even so could not tear her gaze. The insidious feeling in the room seemed to thrum at her feet and creep in wispy tendrils up her spine, chilling her without cold.
"Lyrium," the Tranquil pronounced, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. He shook his head, just slightly, and glanced over the other faces in the room. "Be cautious with it." He, too, felt the faint unease it exuded, and knew that it was no natural lyrium. The normal substance, he worked with nearly daily, and it was nothing like that. Which certainly meant that some form of magic was at work here, and hardly the benevolent sort.
"Lyrium? Looks like treasure to me," came Sparrow's response, closely behind Rilien's shoulder. Even still, like she'd done when they peered into the thaig's spinning darkness, she nearly bounded up the staircase, up the platform, and finally idling next to the altar. She, too, could feel something tickling across her skin, sending unpleasant jolts of electricity down her forearms. There was a wrongness that she couldn't place her finger on - so, she chopped it down to a stomach ache, or Rapture's emphereal talons scrapping down her subconscious, salivating at the unusual find. Her fingers twitched impatiently at her sides, though she had enough sense not to try and pluck it from it's perch. What the hell was it, anyway? The chamber itself seemed as if it was breathing a heavy sigh at their impertenent existence. Unlike Rilien, Sparrow wasn't nearly as knowledgeable about unnatural substances. Whatever elements he was familiar with, she'd hardly touched on. His work-station remained his own.
"Doesn't look like any kind of lyrium I've ever seen," Varric said, shaking his head at the object. He then turned to where Bartrand stood, at the base of the steps. "Look at this, Bartrand. An idol made out of pure lyrium, I think. Could be worth a fortune." The elder brother just whistled in response. Varric turned back to the idol, snatching it off the altar without much heed to any caution. "Hm," he said, feeling the weight of it, "not bad. Let's take a look around, see if there's anything further in." He then promptly tossed the idol back to Bartrand, who caught it reflexively. Varric moved to carry on.
He'd taken about four steps when there was a solid thud behind him indicating that the stone door and only entrance into the room had shut. "What the?" Varric said, running down the steps to it and trying to open it, but it was no use. Bartrand was nowhere in sight. "Bartrand, are you there? The door's shut behind you!" There was the sound of a faint chuckle from beyond the door. "You always did notice everything, Varric."
It took Varric a second or two to comprehend, but when he did, he was furious, pounding on the stone with a fist. "Are you joking? You're going to screw over your own brother for a lousy idol?" Bartrand shot back. "It's not just the idol. The location of this thaig alone is worth a fortune, and I'm not splitting it with all of you." The sound of his voice grew steadily fainter. "Sorry, Brother." Varric pounded on the door a few more times. "Bartrand!" He eventually gave up, turning back to the party, fuming.
"I swear I will find that son of a bitch, sorry mother, and I'll kill him!" Ithilian was... hardly surprised. The way this trip was going so far, he was starting to think that seeking death had been entirely unnecessary. He nocked an arrow, imagining that things were bound to get even more ugly pretty soon. "The only way out now seems to be further in. Let's cut our way out of this place, and teach that dwarf the meaning of vengeance."
Nostariel lamented their fortunes, but she did so purely internally, her face setting itself into grim lines. It wasn't only their chances of survival that were reduced this was; she had the maps, after all, and if they managed to get far enough towards the surface, she should be able to figure out where they were. But if all the expedition's muscle was in here, she didn't much like the odds for anyone out there if any Darkspawn managed to flank. Perhaps best that the Roads were largely empty right now; give it another year, and matters would be considerably more difficult. Taking her staff from her back, the Warden clasped it loosely in a hand and planted the bottom end into the patch of earth at her feet. "We don't have much choice, do we?" she asked, largely rhetorically, before she pushed off using the metal pole of the staff and set forward.
"Treachery's like that," Lucien replied in what seemed a rather offhand manner, but if the look he gave the sealed door was any indication, he was just as upset as the rest of them, only... more quietly.
At least the Thaig had interesting things to look at, she supposed.
"Well, I never. A greedy drawf. How rare-- no offense of course," Ashton deadpanned, firing off a glance at Varric. The sarcasm dripping in his voice was almost tangible, and if it was, he'd most likely pack it away and save it for later. Better to strangle Bartrand with it. He let the bowstring in his fingers go slack as he approached the locked door. If the dwarf pounding on the door was any indication and cussing at his own brother, then it was in fact locked. Eyelids slid lazily over his tired oculars. He wondered whose oatmeal he pissed in to garner such horrid luck. Then his eyes widened as a bolt of realization struck him. He surged forward, lanky legs carried through the party and to the door, leaving him towering over the dwarf as he added his own knocking at the door.
"The bastard has my dragon bones! In the cart with the workers. I swear, if they say they killed it, I'll skin them, and make a bow out of their bones!" He said, punctuating with frantic thumps. He wasn't getting anywhere, and he knew it. The door was there a long time before him, and probably will still be there a long time after. Which satisfied that his punching the door wasn't getting him anywhere fast, he spun on his heels and immediately set out to find another exit. "Right. Let's go. I'm not gonna dawdle here while my dragon bones get hocked at the nearest pawn shop."
He ascended the stairs two at a time, and shot a look at the Dalish man. Caution had long since abandoned him, along with his dragon arm. "I couldn't agree more," he agreed with Ithilian.
Past the altar that the idol had been resting upon was an open door, the group's only remaining option. Ithilian and Varric led the way, taking the group into a series of long, stretching corridors. The lyrium down this far had turned from a glowing blue to a rather malevolent bright red, snaking up and around the walls like vines, exploding out of cracks in the walls and appearing to constrict the passageways like fingers wrapped tightly around a throat. As they moved on from the halls and into a series of more natural looking cave formations, Ithilian was having conflicted feelings. On the one hand, nothing had attacked them so far. On the other, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, or followed.
He found his feelings to be justified once the group wandered down into a spacious cave, a narrow path through the middle flanked by lyrium crystals sprouting from the ground as though they were trees. Rocks that were formerly just lying upon the ground rearranged themselves as they approached, glowing yellows cores igniting in their centers in the shape of ribcages as they formed themselves into rough approximations of bodies. Ithilian wondered if whatever spirits these were weren't just imitating those that they saw. It seemed the kind of thing a demon would do.
Though they did not immediately move to attack that did not stop Ithilian from raising his bow, the arrow aimed for center mass, that yellowish core of theirs. If there was a weak point in a creature otherwise made entirely of rock, it was that. "That is far enough," the center rock creature, of the five present, said, his voice deep and suitably gravely. It wasn't apparent what he spoke from, but the sound was there all the same. "We have watched you for a time, and you appear very capable. I would not see these creatures harmed without need." He must have spoken of the others flanking him, though they looked no less threatening than he, only slightly smaller.
"Well, would you look at that," Varric said, his tone remaining light. "We finally found something down here that didn't attack us on sight." The rock formation eyed the dwarf, if that was possible, for a moment, before responding, his tone remaining calm. "The others will not assault you, not without my permission." Varric seemed content to continue speaking about them as if they weren't there. "What are these things? They seem like rock wraiths, but..."
The rock wraith answered for him. "They hunger. The profane have lingered in this place for ages beyond memory, feeding on the magic stones until the need is all they know. I am not as they are. I am... a visitor." Ithilian's arrow did not waver. "Do not veil your words, demon." After waiting long enough to be sure the elf wasn't going to shoot him right then and there, the rock wraith spoke once more. "I would not see my feast end. I sense your desire. You seek to leave this place, but you will need my aid to do so."
No. Rilien was quite done with demons for the time being, and this one warranted absolutely none of his attention. It would just be another temptation for people who were not as he was, and frankly, he was not feeling at all charitable towards the notion of dealing with another possessed person at the moment. One was quite enough. He caught Lucien's eye, his own flicking subtly towards the other creatures, but turned his focus forward again as Varric began to speak. The Chevalier understood well enough what was meant, and rolled his shoulders, as if to loosen them, though his hand strayed yet not to his axe. The Warden was already shaking her head, looking as though she were about to deny its words, but this too was pointless. Why parley with a creature that would only attack once you had refused? It was entirely pointless, and he was not one to waste his time so.
As the last words were leaving it, the Tranquil moved, breaking into a dead run that had more the appearance of floating than anything, an impression only reinforced by the ease with which he left the ground, his feet passing over his head at about the same time as he passed over the demon's, the first of his blades finding the glowing ghost-light that formed what appeared to be its single eye. The perfect arc of his motion completed lightly, and he landed back-to-back with it, wrenching his second dagger backward, past the stones that comprised its torso and into the yellowish core of magic that served to hold it together.
The result was instantaneous; the light sputtered and died, the stones collapsing back into a heap upon the ground, and the other creatures sprang forth, free of whatever force had held them at bay. "I think not," he said flatly, mostly in response to its last assertion. Capable they were, and they would make it out of these roads quite independently of any such barbed, poisonous assistance. He stooped to gather his knives from amidst the rubble, pleased to discover that his aim had been true and they'd scraped no stone in the process.
At the same time that Rilien sprang into action like the predator he was, Ashton had taken his time to select the perfect arrow to ram up the demon's ass. As he went about this process, he was continually shaking his head, muttering under his breath No, nope, nope, hell no, the entire time. By the time Rilien had moved, Ashton had nocked his arrow and taken a step forward, taking aim at the foul creature. He would not have another Sparrow. No deal was to be made today, and he would see the demon fall for such an insult. Anger danced across his eyes as he awaited Rilien to finish his maneuver so that he would have a free shot. What would he do if another one of them fell to the allure of a demon? Though he tried to play it off, Sparrow's plight hurt him. He would not see the same thing done to Nostariel.
As the heels of Rilien's head cleared what he believed to be the face of the creature (and slamming his knife in it, good ol' Rilien) Ashton released his own arrow. It shot through the air, and stuck the front glowing mass of the demon, forcing it further into Rilien's other knife. One again, he realized just how like minded he and the tranquil were. Whether that spoke measures about Rilien or himself, he wasn't sure. Still, they weren't out of the pot yet. His next motion was as fluid as Rilien's, as only the mouthpiece had been destroyed, and left enough of it's ilk for everyone. He pivotted on his right foot, taking him in an arc ninety degrees, dropping his sight on the first Rock Wraith. Arrow drawn and bow taut, he took aim at the creature.
"Glad you stabbed it in its lying face Ril," Ashton said, releasing his arrow, "Let's clean up his friends and never talk about this, yeah?"
When Ashton and Rilien had turned to the large one at the center, Lucien had selected a target to one of the sides, pulling his axe from the loop at his belt and hurling it in one smooth motion. The weapon flew end over end, whistling through the air and embedding itself in the center of one of the other rock-constructions, but he was hardly going to wait to see if that was enough, and Lucien was off after it immediately thereafter, bearing down upon the creature with his right side, the shield connecting with a violent clang, surely sufficient to stun. It did the job, giving him enough time to take the axe by the haft, draw it up, and swing in a wood-chopping arc, landing it right in the same spot. That was enough, and like the other two, it lost that internal light and crumbled back into the loose collection of stones it had been at the start.
He had to admit, he was not used to demons, but if this was what they all were like, then he had difficulty understanding how they could hold such sway over people. Nothing it had said appealed to him in the least; he had every confidence that he and the others would find the surface again, aided or not. Perhaps others of its kind were more persuasive? He was admittedly curious, though he could not say that the feeling extended to wishing to meet more of them, particularly.
Ithilian put a well-placed shot into the core of the first wraith on the left, while Varric unleashed a trio of shots directly into the face of the one beside it, the pair of them crumbling into dust and rubble beside the others. "Right," Varric said lightly, "now that that's done with, let's get moving."
"Unlikely, I know," Varric offered, "but it's possible this thaig is from an age in which dwarves weren't mired in tradition." Bartrand nodded, seeming agreeable to the idea. "These dwarves might have been unique. If so, I hope they kept their valuables close at hand." They continued on, up the stairs and past where a few of the expedition were gathered, including the boy Sandal and the merchant Bodahn, the latter of which was still keeping a hand on his boy's shoulder as if to ensure he would remain in sight for the remainder of the trip. Sandal had wandered rather close to Rilien for much of the journey since the group had found him among the darkspawn, and he was close to the Tranquil now. Bodahn seemed to be content just being wherever Sandal was.
"I need to thank you again," Bodahn said to the Tranquil, for perhaps the third time, "I still can't believe you found him." Sandal offered a tentative "'Ello!" to Rilien as well, as he seemed wont to do when Bodahn began speaking to anyone. "I owe you a great debt," Bodahn continued, "I will repay it somehow--I swear my life on it!"
"Unnecessary," Rilien replied, shaking his head. He wasn't much in the habit of taking coin for things he had not agreed to do for coin, and if the distinction made sense only to him, well... it wouldn't be the only thing. He wasn't in need of anything, at least not anything Bodahn could provide him with, though there was the matter of Sandal. Blinking languidly, Rilien cast a glance in the boy's direction at his greeting, and nodded one in return. It was obvious that the lad was talented, but he did not imagine that the life of a travelling merchant gave him much opportunity to refine his craft, and that seemed suboptimal at best.
"What do you intend to do after the expedition concludes?" the Tranquil asked, in the same placid tones he used for everything. He, of course, had plans upon plans, for several contingencies, besides. It was simply the way his mind worked, and factoring in several new variables was yielding better results than even he had expected. Of course, there were a number of contingencies at work, but if it were the case that the dwarf and his son would not be leaving the vicinity of Kirkwall, all three of them might benefit in some measure.
"Depending on how the expedition pans out," Bodahn explained, "we'll probably remain in Kirkwall for a time. We've already been contacted by a number of individuals interested in my boy's enchanting services, some very high up in the city indeed. As for myself, I think some time settled down is much needed, after my years on the road. Yes, I think we'll stay around for a while."
Rilien let a few more steps pass in silence before he spoke, tilting his head to the side so as to glance between father and son. "I plan to purchase a storefront in Kirkwall. I enchant and fabricate alchemical mixtures, myself. I think that Sandal could make use of an opportunity to grow in his craft, and I expect that any such place as I buy could make good use of a person with the social skills to work the counter. Oftentimes, people are disinclined to speak with me. I would not object to you continuing to do your own business on the premises, either, if you should find that arrangement satisfactory. Any work Sandal does, he would be free to profit from. Likewise with yourself." He let the offer hang there, apparently not feeling the need to press for an answer at that moment.
Rilien, while quite sure that there were yet things he could teach Sandal, was also interested in what he might learn, but in the end, he would have enough things to occupy him even if they refused. Still, the idea of having someone else to run both aspects of such an enterprise should he need to be absent for days at a time was a good one, and might well help the lot of them maintain steady clientele, something he was certain would appeal to the dwarf's business sense. Even so, he was not one to insist.
Bodahn considered for a moment. "That sounds like a very interesting opportunity, if I do say so myself. We will certainly consider it, though of course such a decision is not to be made immediately. I would very much like to speak further about that upon our return to Kirkwall, once we know just what we'll find down here." The Tranquil nodded, content with the answer.
Eventually, the scouting party that had cleared their way here was gathered once more, Bartrand accompanying them this time as well. Though the entrance to the thaig had been fascinating and extremely confusing, a more organized push into the thaig was necessary in order to find something valuable. Thus the group pushed onwards, deeper into the thaig, Varric and his elder brother leading the way. "Hmm," Varric mused to the party. "Whatever's through here, it seems still intact. I wonder if we'll find anything..." Ithilian had his bow drawn already, experience teaching him that there was little point sheathing weapons when in the Deep Roads. He was thinking something more along the lines of I wonder if anything will find us, but refrained from putting words to it. Varric shrugged. "Hmph. I suppose we'll need to go down there to find out." That earned a small sigh from Nostariel, but she was otherwise silent on the matter.
Sparrow whistled soft and low, squinting her eyes. Her mace bounced leisurely across her shoulder, loosely held in her hand. How long have they been down here already? The thaig was an endless maze of twists and turns, thick with darkness. She would've been lying if she said she didn't miss the fresh air, or the scorching sun on her back. Everything felt heavy, as if a substantial cloud of smog was pressing against her shoulders. She jostled towards the front, idling beside Nostariel, but only remained still for a moment. Her confidence had always been staggeringly reckless, and so Sparrow was the first to step forward, heedless of danger, clutching perilously off Varric's words â they may find something down there, they might. Much in the same mindset as Sparrow, Ashton too missed the sun. Plus the grass, trees, birds. Really, he missed everything but dirt and rock. Still, he was right beside her as she recklessly strode forward. He wasn't a coward... Most of the time, but he needed somebody's bravery to latch on to and push himself forward. Rightly so that it had been Sparrow's. He covered her side with a drawn bow as they stepped forward into the forgotten thaig.
Lucien, for his part, seemed to bear the monotony of the landscape with an easy sort of nonchalance, and seemed content to linger somewhere in the middle of the group, which given his height did nothing to impede his monocular view of what was going on. From somewhere in the caravan or perhaps from Bodahn, he'd procured a one-handed axe to compliment his shield, which now hung from a loop in his belt, though the metal disc remained strapped to his left forearm. It wasn't what he'd prefer to be bringing into battle, but it would do nicely for present purposes. He'd returned Rilien's knife to the Tranquil, quite insistent that the man have it back. Lucien could use it well enough, but where Rilien was concerned, the blade was simply an extension of his arm. He'd rather walk into another fight with nothing but a shield to his name and a fully-armed Rilien, if it had come down to that. It had happened similarly before.
The group moved forward on their guard, but for the moment it appeared unnecessary, for nothing seemed to stir this far beneath the surface. And yet, despite how silent the walls were, the sounds of their feet echoing throughout the chambers they passed through, the entire thaig felt remarkably alive, like the stone itself had taken note of their trespass, and disapproved. Bartrand didn't notice, or didn't care, and led them onward, picking up the pace slightly as he went.
After some time they passed through a single heavy stone door and entered a large room glowing with red light seemingly emanating from the walls. The centerpiece of the room was a rectangular altar set upon a raised platform towards the rear, a set of stairs flanked by imposing columns guiding them to it. The party filtered into the room, Varric pushing forward towards the altar the quickest, Bartrand remaining by the door, taking in the ominous feeling the room naturally gave off.
Varric slowed to a stop before the altar once he'd reached the top, his head barely reaching over it enough to see what was placed upon it. "Are you... seeing what I'm seeing?" he asked of Nostariel next to him.
"I think so," the Warden murmured by way of reply, eyes fixed on the object on the altar. Was it just her, or was that malificient feeling in the room emanating from that... thing? She didn't know properly what to call it, but it seemed to be at once magnetic and repulsive to her, like something particularly grotesque from which she even so could not tear her gaze. The insidious feeling in the room seemed to thrum at her feet and creep in wispy tendrils up her spine, chilling her without cold.
"Lyrium," the Tranquil pronounced, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. He shook his head, just slightly, and glanced over the other faces in the room. "Be cautious with it." He, too, felt the faint unease it exuded, and knew that it was no natural lyrium. The normal substance, he worked with nearly daily, and it was nothing like that. Which certainly meant that some form of magic was at work here, and hardly the benevolent sort.
"Lyrium? Looks like treasure to me," came Sparrow's response, closely behind Rilien's shoulder. Even still, like she'd done when they peered into the thaig's spinning darkness, she nearly bounded up the staircase, up the platform, and finally idling next to the altar. She, too, could feel something tickling across her skin, sending unpleasant jolts of electricity down her forearms. There was a wrongness that she couldn't place her finger on - so, she chopped it down to a stomach ache, or Rapture's emphereal talons scrapping down her subconscious, salivating at the unusual find. Her fingers twitched impatiently at her sides, though she had enough sense not to try and pluck it from it's perch. What the hell was it, anyway? The chamber itself seemed as if it was breathing a heavy sigh at their impertenent existence. Unlike Rilien, Sparrow wasn't nearly as knowledgeable about unnatural substances. Whatever elements he was familiar with, she'd hardly touched on. His work-station remained his own.
"Doesn't look like any kind of lyrium I've ever seen," Varric said, shaking his head at the object. He then turned to where Bartrand stood, at the base of the steps. "Look at this, Bartrand. An idol made out of pure lyrium, I think. Could be worth a fortune." The elder brother just whistled in response. Varric turned back to the idol, snatching it off the altar without much heed to any caution. "Hm," he said, feeling the weight of it, "not bad. Let's take a look around, see if there's anything further in." He then promptly tossed the idol back to Bartrand, who caught it reflexively. Varric moved to carry on.
He'd taken about four steps when there was a solid thud behind him indicating that the stone door and only entrance into the room had shut. "What the?" Varric said, running down the steps to it and trying to open it, but it was no use. Bartrand was nowhere in sight. "Bartrand, are you there? The door's shut behind you!" There was the sound of a faint chuckle from beyond the door. "You always did notice everything, Varric."
It took Varric a second or two to comprehend, but when he did, he was furious, pounding on the stone with a fist. "Are you joking? You're going to screw over your own brother for a lousy idol?" Bartrand shot back. "It's not just the idol. The location of this thaig alone is worth a fortune, and I'm not splitting it with all of you." The sound of his voice grew steadily fainter. "Sorry, Brother." Varric pounded on the door a few more times. "Bartrand!" He eventually gave up, turning back to the party, fuming.
"I swear I will find that son of a bitch, sorry mother, and I'll kill him!" Ithilian was... hardly surprised. The way this trip was going so far, he was starting to think that seeking death had been entirely unnecessary. He nocked an arrow, imagining that things were bound to get even more ugly pretty soon. "The only way out now seems to be further in. Let's cut our way out of this place, and teach that dwarf the meaning of vengeance."
Nostariel lamented their fortunes, but she did so purely internally, her face setting itself into grim lines. It wasn't only their chances of survival that were reduced this was; she had the maps, after all, and if they managed to get far enough towards the surface, she should be able to figure out where they were. But if all the expedition's muscle was in here, she didn't much like the odds for anyone out there if any Darkspawn managed to flank. Perhaps best that the Roads were largely empty right now; give it another year, and matters would be considerably more difficult. Taking her staff from her back, the Warden clasped it loosely in a hand and planted the bottom end into the patch of earth at her feet. "We don't have much choice, do we?" she asked, largely rhetorically, before she pushed off using the metal pole of the staff and set forward.
"Treachery's like that," Lucien replied in what seemed a rather offhand manner, but if the look he gave the sealed door was any indication, he was just as upset as the rest of them, only... more quietly.
At least the Thaig had interesting things to look at, she supposed.
"Well, I never. A greedy drawf. How rare-- no offense of course," Ashton deadpanned, firing off a glance at Varric. The sarcasm dripping in his voice was almost tangible, and if it was, he'd most likely pack it away and save it for later. Better to strangle Bartrand with it. He let the bowstring in his fingers go slack as he approached the locked door. If the dwarf pounding on the door was any indication and cussing at his own brother, then it was in fact locked. Eyelids slid lazily over his tired oculars. He wondered whose oatmeal he pissed in to garner such horrid luck. Then his eyes widened as a bolt of realization struck him. He surged forward, lanky legs carried through the party and to the door, leaving him towering over the dwarf as he added his own knocking at the door.
"The bastard has my dragon bones! In the cart with the workers. I swear, if they say they killed it, I'll skin them, and make a bow out of their bones!" He said, punctuating with frantic thumps. He wasn't getting anywhere, and he knew it. The door was there a long time before him, and probably will still be there a long time after. Which satisfied that his punching the door wasn't getting him anywhere fast, he spun on his heels and immediately set out to find another exit. "Right. Let's go. I'm not gonna dawdle here while my dragon bones get hocked at the nearest pawn shop."
He ascended the stairs two at a time, and shot a look at the Dalish man. Caution had long since abandoned him, along with his dragon arm. "I couldn't agree more," he agreed with Ithilian.
Past the altar that the idol had been resting upon was an open door, the group's only remaining option. Ithilian and Varric led the way, taking the group into a series of long, stretching corridors. The lyrium down this far had turned from a glowing blue to a rather malevolent bright red, snaking up and around the walls like vines, exploding out of cracks in the walls and appearing to constrict the passageways like fingers wrapped tightly around a throat. As they moved on from the halls and into a series of more natural looking cave formations, Ithilian was having conflicted feelings. On the one hand, nothing had attacked them so far. On the other, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, or followed.
He found his feelings to be justified once the group wandered down into a spacious cave, a narrow path through the middle flanked by lyrium crystals sprouting from the ground as though they were trees. Rocks that were formerly just lying upon the ground rearranged themselves as they approached, glowing yellows cores igniting in their centers in the shape of ribcages as they formed themselves into rough approximations of bodies. Ithilian wondered if whatever spirits these were weren't just imitating those that they saw. It seemed the kind of thing a demon would do.
Though they did not immediately move to attack that did not stop Ithilian from raising his bow, the arrow aimed for center mass, that yellowish core of theirs. If there was a weak point in a creature otherwise made entirely of rock, it was that. "That is far enough," the center rock creature, of the five present, said, his voice deep and suitably gravely. It wasn't apparent what he spoke from, but the sound was there all the same. "We have watched you for a time, and you appear very capable. I would not see these creatures harmed without need." He must have spoken of the others flanking him, though they looked no less threatening than he, only slightly smaller.
"Well, would you look at that," Varric said, his tone remaining light. "We finally found something down here that didn't attack us on sight." The rock formation eyed the dwarf, if that was possible, for a moment, before responding, his tone remaining calm. "The others will not assault you, not without my permission." Varric seemed content to continue speaking about them as if they weren't there. "What are these things? They seem like rock wraiths, but..."
The rock wraith answered for him. "They hunger. The profane have lingered in this place for ages beyond memory, feeding on the magic stones until the need is all they know. I am not as they are. I am... a visitor." Ithilian's arrow did not waver. "Do not veil your words, demon." After waiting long enough to be sure the elf wasn't going to shoot him right then and there, the rock wraith spoke once more. "I would not see my feast end. I sense your desire. You seek to leave this place, but you will need my aid to do so."
No. Rilien was quite done with demons for the time being, and this one warranted absolutely none of his attention. It would just be another temptation for people who were not as he was, and frankly, he was not feeling at all charitable towards the notion of dealing with another possessed person at the moment. One was quite enough. He caught Lucien's eye, his own flicking subtly towards the other creatures, but turned his focus forward again as Varric began to speak. The Chevalier understood well enough what was meant, and rolled his shoulders, as if to loosen them, though his hand strayed yet not to his axe. The Warden was already shaking her head, looking as though she were about to deny its words, but this too was pointless. Why parley with a creature that would only attack once you had refused? It was entirely pointless, and he was not one to waste his time so.
As the last words were leaving it, the Tranquil moved, breaking into a dead run that had more the appearance of floating than anything, an impression only reinforced by the ease with which he left the ground, his feet passing over his head at about the same time as he passed over the demon's, the first of his blades finding the glowing ghost-light that formed what appeared to be its single eye. The perfect arc of his motion completed lightly, and he landed back-to-back with it, wrenching his second dagger backward, past the stones that comprised its torso and into the yellowish core of magic that served to hold it together.
The result was instantaneous; the light sputtered and died, the stones collapsing back into a heap upon the ground, and the other creatures sprang forth, free of whatever force had held them at bay. "I think not," he said flatly, mostly in response to its last assertion. Capable they were, and they would make it out of these roads quite independently of any such barbed, poisonous assistance. He stooped to gather his knives from amidst the rubble, pleased to discover that his aim had been true and they'd scraped no stone in the process.
At the same time that Rilien sprang into action like the predator he was, Ashton had taken his time to select the perfect arrow to ram up the demon's ass. As he went about this process, he was continually shaking his head, muttering under his breath No, nope, nope, hell no, the entire time. By the time Rilien had moved, Ashton had nocked his arrow and taken a step forward, taking aim at the foul creature. He would not have another Sparrow. No deal was to be made today, and he would see the demon fall for such an insult. Anger danced across his eyes as he awaited Rilien to finish his maneuver so that he would have a free shot. What would he do if another one of them fell to the allure of a demon? Though he tried to play it off, Sparrow's plight hurt him. He would not see the same thing done to Nostariel.
As the heels of Rilien's head cleared what he believed to be the face of the creature (and slamming his knife in it, good ol' Rilien) Ashton released his own arrow. It shot through the air, and stuck the front glowing mass of the demon, forcing it further into Rilien's other knife. One again, he realized just how like minded he and the tranquil were. Whether that spoke measures about Rilien or himself, he wasn't sure. Still, they weren't out of the pot yet. His next motion was as fluid as Rilien's, as only the mouthpiece had been destroyed, and left enough of it's ilk for everyone. He pivotted on his right foot, taking him in an arc ninety degrees, dropping his sight on the first Rock Wraith. Arrow drawn and bow taut, he took aim at the creature.
"Glad you stabbed it in its lying face Ril," Ashton said, releasing his arrow, "Let's clean up his friends and never talk about this, yeah?"
When Ashton and Rilien had turned to the large one at the center, Lucien had selected a target to one of the sides, pulling his axe from the loop at his belt and hurling it in one smooth motion. The weapon flew end over end, whistling through the air and embedding itself in the center of one of the other rock-constructions, but he was hardly going to wait to see if that was enough, and Lucien was off after it immediately thereafter, bearing down upon the creature with his right side, the shield connecting with a violent clang, surely sufficient to stun. It did the job, giving him enough time to take the axe by the haft, draw it up, and swing in a wood-chopping arc, landing it right in the same spot. That was enough, and like the other two, it lost that internal light and crumbled back into the loose collection of stones it had been at the start.
He had to admit, he was not used to demons, but if this was what they all were like, then he had difficulty understanding how they could hold such sway over people. Nothing it had said appealed to him in the least; he had every confidence that he and the others would find the surface again, aided or not. Perhaps others of its kind were more persuasive? He was admittedly curious, though he could not say that the feeling extended to wishing to meet more of them, particularly.
Ithilian put a well-placed shot into the core of the first wraith on the left, while Varric unleashed a trio of shots directly into the face of the one beside it, the pair of them crumbling into dust and rubble beside the others. "Right," Varric said lightly, "now that that's done with, let's get moving."