The rock bowed outward at the top, providing more room at the bottom, but he wasn't about to go crawling on the ground. Pulling in a breath, Cullen twisted to the side and eased into the hole. A squeal of scraping metal thundered against his ears as he dragged himself against the rocky wall. His armor was just large enough to catch.
"Hurry," Lana whispered at him, holding the torch closer than seemed wise.
"I am trying," he huffed, each shift pulling forth more of the squealing.
"Or be quieter," she added, her peeved voice drawing the same ire from him. Did she think he planned this?
"I would be if it weren't for this Maker blighted armor," Cullen cursed, inching his body along. He made it nearly halfway through the gap when the griffin on his chest bulged with a breath he didn't mean to take. "Oh no. No, no, no," he cried softly, struggling to unstick himself.
"What is it?" Lana asked, as if she couldn't see the fool he turned himself into. It was one thing to die in the deep roads from darkspawn or blight, or even the deep stalkers she mentioned, but wedging oneself in the rocks and starving to death earned nothing more than the Maker's scorn.
"I am...I cannot move," Cullen collapsed, wishing he had more to give. He was about to tell her to move on, find White and do what she could without him, when Lana dropped her staff and shifted the torch to her other hand.
"Ah," she said, and wiggled her fingers up through the gap of his collarbone.
What was she doing? You couldn't remove the armor while was was pinned in place. Lana didn't reach for a strap or buckle, instead her finger touched against the back of the breastplate. She didn't slip her eyes closed or even appear to concentrate, but Cullen tasted the fade drifting into their world. A chill crept off her skin like fog across a graveyard at dusk. It bloomed down his chest, the ice skimming across the metal griffin. It grew from an uncomfortable frost to a stinging pain biting through the linens and into his bones.
"What are you..." he began to ask when the armor popped, the seal against the rock broken.
Lana snaked her arm away from his armor and grabbed onto his arm. Thankfully, her hand was warm as she yanked upon him. Without the rock in place, Cullen was able to squeeze out into the cavern beside her. As he tried to check himself for damage he spotted a sheen of frost clinging across the griffin relief now slightly dented inward and scuffed. He looked up at her, and Lana shrugged.
"Cold metal constricts."
"You could have warned me."
"I suppose, but 'I'm going to freeze your armor, don't move,' seemed pointless when you already couldn't move. Here," she passed back his torch and lifted up her staff. "White's near. I'm certain of it now."
He nodded his head and reached for the hilt of his sword. Lana placed her hand over his, the same one that he now suspected could shatter his armor if given cause. How powerful did she grow in the intervening years? "Not yet," she said, her fingers digging into his.
"This is a dangerous blood mage. I should be armed," Cullen said, meeting her gaze. For a moment she looked about to argue, but Lana dipped back, her heat breaking from him.
"Of course, you're right. I...come, he's around this bend."
Unsheathing the sword that'd seen the end of far too many of Kirkwall's renegade mages, Cullen followed behind Lana as she moved through the dark like a deep stalker. The lyrium veins drifted away here, only a few patches of the blue lighting up the stones around them. But Lana didn't need it, it was almost as if she could smell the other grey warden. Perhaps she could. Or...
Cullen shook the idea off. She came to him, came to the templars to hunt a blood mage. There was no way she could be...no, he refused to even entertain the thought. It was madness. Lana paused at the end of another turn in the rock. Mercifully, this was large enough to fit him. Even with his lyrium ration nearly drained from his system, the mage was close enough Cullen could feel it through the phylactery. He gripped tighter to his sword, the leather crackling.
Lana watched his hand dig into the longsword, her stare a hundred miles away. She seemed to be contemplating something, or perhaps remembering another moment. Cullen was about to shake her out of it, when she whipped her head up towards him. Closing her eyes once, she nodded her head. Magic crackled around her entire body as she jumped around the rock to face down White. Cullen was inches behind her, his blade extended out.
Oh shit!
He nearly sliced into her elbow as he wrapped his sword arm around Lana's waist, pinning her close to him. Cullen dug his heels in, anchoring them both from the gigantic gap in the floor only inches away from their feet. She pressed back into him, her feet scrabbling to find purchase as she gazed downward.
A neck breaking fall below, the ground burst in an unnatural red fire. What drew them both to it wasn't the churning lava but the tentacles whipping in and out of the platform suspended above it.
"Broodmothers," Lana sneered, a hate twisting her face into something macabre.
Even from the vast distance, the creatures appeared massive. Their mottled, hairless flesh undulated off their upright chests as their tentacles slapped into the ground. An old memory of catching an ancient sow on her last litter stirred in Cullen's mind and he looked at the monsters anew. Oh, that wasn't just sagging skin dangling off their chests. Vileness radiated off the horrific things, pinging a primal disgust inside of him. These things weren't just unnatural, they were atrocities. He watched the two of the broodmothers tug upon something like a dog with a sock. It wasn't until the legs ripped apart, blood splattering in the wake, that he realized it was the bottom half of a corpse - which both creatures happily devoured. Bile rose through the back of Cullen's throat, and he had to lean back before he vomited all over the back of Lana's robes.
"Yes, Lady Mage," a voice spoke in the darkness, "the mothers of...I believe hurlocks. So, you know what that means."
Lana snapped her fingers and kicked out a ball of light. It arced above their heads and highlighted a man standing on the other side the pit. His hair was stark white, whiter than the snows of the Frostbacks, which appeared even more striking against the fine features. If they were aged, he wore them well. She wasn't kidding about him being svelte, even for an elf. He wore the blue and silver grey warden armor, though with less metal than of Cullen's, but his body was so slight he all but disappeared inside of it. His head bobbed upon a sea of fabrics and chainmail.
"White!" Lana shouted just as her ball of light faded away, blanketing him back in shadow.
But the mage lit up his own light source, a blue turning his patrician face gaunt and horrifying. "You're hunting for me. Of course you would. You always would. But do you know why?"
"White, listen to me. Please. You don't want to do this," Lana pleaded, trying to shout without drawing the attention of the horrible creatures below.
For a moment the elf sagged, his shoulders crumpling fully and he stared down at the broodmothers. "They wouldn't exist if it weren't for us, you know? That's how they make us. We made them, then they made us."
"What is he talking about?" Cullen tried to interrupt, but Lana waved him off, her bony shoulder burrowing into him.
"I understand, you're scared. But what you're planning to do won't fix anything. You know that. Please, let me help you," Lana's normally stern voice cracked, a gurgle of a cry breaking up her words.
White shook his head, then under great strain climbed up his staff to raise his head higher until he could look over at them. "You brought a templar with you. Wise. Best way to stop a blood mage is with a templar."
Lana stiffened in Cullen's grasp, her entire body tightening like a rope about to snap. Did she hope to pass him off as another grey warden? Cullen tried to bring up his sword, but he was mostly useless at this distance. He couldn't even drain the mage's mana without leaving Lana vulnerable.
But White didn't outright attack them, only twisted his head, and sighed, "Templar, forgive me for not knowing your name. But I suspect it's Templar in your mind. Templar all the way down. T
emplar in the blood." He tapped his head and twisted his lips into the cruelest grin. Cullen squirmed, steeling himself for a mental invasion by the blood mage, but nothing came. Not even a whisper skimmed over his thoughts. "No, it is good you are here. You should know too. Know the truth, know everything. It's in you, too, you chose it, some didn't. It's in all of us, or should be. The truth, we keep getting it almost right, but even more wrong."
"What truth, White? Why are you doing this?"
"Lady Mage, so young. Too young to be in this. That's what they do. They need them young, to feed to it. Everything we were told, it's all a lie."
"Wonderful," Cullen sighed. When anyone said the phrase "everything we've been told was a lie" it was best to lock up the sharp objects and keep them from swallowing their own tongue.
Lana didn't roll her eyes at White, but tried to inch closer to him despite the gap full of whatever the broodmothers were. "White, I'm sorry about whatever you've seen, but I need you to come with me. Please."
For a moment the elf looked about to cross to them as he extended a foot. He'd slip down into the cavern and break his neck, true, at least it'd solve the problem one way or another. But then his self preservation instincts kicked in and he slid back, "I wish I could, Lady Mage. You were better than most, we found some amazing answers together. But it didn't matter. None of it does. This is all wrong, everything, even this!" He flicked his fingers and the air above him flickered, revealing a thread of green light peeking out from the Fade itself. Somehow, he tore right through the veil! Cullen gripped tighter to his sword, the threat of demons now on the table. He'd never seen any mage rip apart the veil so easily before, most requiring enough lyrium to light up a cavern.
White slipped his fingers back, closing up the veil without a second thought.
"How did you do that?" Lana shouted, her eyes white in terror. That oddly comforted Cullen, knowing she was just as frightened of this unseen and unknown power.
"The same way I do anything, the same way you do...could do, will do. Nothing lasts forever, Lady Mage. I have to do this, for all of us. I am sorry if I hurt you in the process," White shouted. Then he drew forth a silver blade, the edge a ghostly blue in the light of the lyrium.
"Sweet Maker, he's going to..." Cullen shouted, but there was nothing they could do. White slit across his arm drawing forth the power of the blood. Cullen gripped tighter to Lana, extending his sword before them both. His hair stood on end as she snapped up some kind of protection spell, the energy wrapping around their bodies.
"White!" Lana screamed even while lifting up a bolt of lightning, prepared to throw it at him. "Do not kill the First Warden!" The blood mage looked up at her, his eyes drifting down in regret. Then he lifted his hands and the blood rose up around him. Thick and black, it clotted in the air around White. Lana tensed up, her shield thickening around them.
Rocks shattered off the walls, hissing in rage, but White did not throw the pile at them. Instead, he blasted the cavern above the pit. Boulders and chunks of the ceiling broke off and careened down towards the broodmothers. Their bulbous heads twisted up, the tentacles slapping in terror but there was nothing they could do to stop the incoming bombardment. The first struck one in the head, killing it instantly. Blood splattered into the lava below. The second screamed in rage as rocks slammed into the torso and tentacles. It wasn't until the final roof spanning boulder dislodged from the ceiling and splattered across both of their bodies that the screaming stopped.
"White!" Lana shouted, shaking off the horror of the broodmother's deaths quicker than Cullen. She gripped onto his arm while leaning as far out as possible. But the elf had drifted back into a tunnel and blasted the ceiling again, sealing himself off from them. "Damn it!" Lana screamed, kicking her boot into thin air. Cullen clung tighter to her, his eyes bulging from the effort while she raged over how close they came.
After her rain of curses dropped down to sacrilege under her breath, he said, "Do as before, with the stairs. Raise the debris up and form a bridge."
She sighed, her head lolling forward, "It wouldn't matter. He's too powerful, he can just collapse more in front of us. We'd be digging for ages before we'd get through." Her entire body leaned back into his, pressing the armor even tighter to his body. "He killed them, the broodmothers. No reason, they didn't even see us, but he didn't hesitate."
"Was that..." With the danger passed Cullen realized he'd been holding his arm just below her chest for what now felt an eternity. Struggling to not croak, he continued, "What does that mean?"
"That he's still a grey warden. I thought he was possessed, surely only someone that...but to put an end to those things." Lana's body shuddered in his grasp, a fact that wasn't helping his realization that he was still holding her.
"What are they?" Cullen asked.
"They are what create darkspawn. This one would give birth to hurlocks. But it's not what they are now, it's what they were." She struggled through a breath and patted his arm, "They were women once. Humans the darkspawn corrupted into those."
"Sweet Maker!" Cullen cursed, sobering up instantly. He tried to peer back down again, to find a hint of humanity in those horrifying creatures, but only a few limp tentacles were visible beneath the carnage.
"The Maker had nothing to do with it," Lana spat. "'They looked on what pride had wrought, and despaired.'"
"'The work of man and woman, by hubris of their making. The sorrow a blight unbearable,'" Cullen finished the canticle, both of them staring into the hissing pit as the last of the rock dust burned up on the lava's surface.
"I know a way we can catch up to White, cut him off before he gets through the thaig," Lana spoke, her voice a whisper.
"Why do I have a sinking feeling about this plan?"
She snorted, and began to slide away from him. Cullen released his grip as she drifted to the side of the crevice. Staring into his eyes, Lana delivered her death sentence, "Because it takes us straight through the darkspawn nest."
Chapter Seven
Darkspawn
"Do you have any advice?" Cullen whispered above her ear. He was grateful Lana took the lead so she didn't watch his measly color drain from the horrors below them. Creatures not of the Maker numbered in the multitudes, their malformed skin slick with ichor as they all dug bare handed into the rock below them. There was no cohesive movement, no planning on the darkspawn's part. It was a twitching mass of terror, like a dead druffalo bursting with maggots.
"Advice?" She glanced around the caverns, knots of paths winding up and down throughout the area, most seeming to end in the pit below. On occasion, a cry or blood curdling shriek would echo up as one darkspawn threw a chunk of dislodged rock at another. Anywhere else it would cause a fight between soldiers, but the darkspawn shook it off and continued working. That froze Cullen's veins more than the broodmother's tentacles.
"For how to handle that many darkspawn in one area."
"Yes. Don't," Lana pivoted from their vantage point and stared up into his eyes. Terror skirted through her face, and it soothed him to know that despite her years walking through the deep roads even she found this madness.
"What now? We could still attempt to dislodge the rocks," Cullen said. It was a struggle getting through the cramped space for a second time, and while he did not relish the thought of a third, it was preferable to diving headlong into a hundred plus darkspawn horde.
"No, I believe I have something better," Lana said.
"Return to the surface and intercept White where there are no darkspawn hordes, as any sane person would," Cullen spoke aloud the words floating in his brain. He whipped around, a blush rising from his flippant tongue.
But Lana smiled, "I'm the hero of Ferelden, sane was never in the job description." She pointed towards one of a dozen holes carved into the cavern, the entire area dotted with them like a wasp's nest. "According to the map, if we follow that one it should twist around and drop us onto the road between two thaigs, which will intercept with White.
"
"And here comes the problem..." Cullen said even while calculating how they could drop down to reach it.
She softly elbowed him, "You're getting the hang of this grey warden thing."
"It seems to amount to run head long into danger, then -- at the last moment -- devise a brilliant way to survive."
That drew a chuckle from her, the sound so foreign in this demonic pit he felt himself smile. Lana slid around her pack and opened it. He couldn't fully see what she was inspecting, only the tops of something clay colored wrapped in wads of cushioning cotton. "When I get closer to the darkspawn they will sense me. It's part of the deal, we sense them but then they can sense us."
"Can they sense you now?"
"If they did, they'd be climbing over top each other to kill us. So, gonna guess not." She snorted and shook her head, "A rare time when a non grey warden would do better in the deep roads. Which is why you'll have to go first."
"And trust you can slaughter all the darkspawn alone?" Cullen tried to not sound indignant given what he'd seen of her powers, but even that seemed to be reaching into the realm of fantasy.
"No, I'm going to have trust that you can clear all the darkspawn in the way to create a path while I carry this," she hefted up one of the clay pots from her pack. It was nearly too large for her smaller hand, the pot sealed fully save for three holes drilled into the top.
"What is it?" Cullen asked, leaning closer.
Lana tucked it tight to her stomach like it was a fragile egg and breathed, "You'll see, but trust me. It'll do the job. If not, I have three more. First, we have to get down and without, um, exploding."
"Exploding?" Through sheer willpower, he kept his voice from cracking.
Lana ignored him, her neck craned so she could peer down at the ledge below. He watched calculations pucker the folds along her nose, the kind that seemed to be ending in more running than he anticipated. After a time, she turned to him and asked, "Do you think you could hold me?"
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