“Captain Falmore often told us not to overestimate ourselves.”

From the Journal of Eratus Riverwood

The giant hand rose then fell.

I raised my left arm. Light surged out, coalescing into a barrier. Then the flow sputtered and ceased. I willed and focused, but to no avail. I had exhausted my core.

The shield shattered like glass.

My legs registered the event faster than my mind, and leapt right as the claws slammed into the spot where I had just been standing.

The stone floor splintered out from the impact point, and erupted. I darted away from the quaking floor, right as I saw the whirl of another clawed hand rake the air in front of me, sending a gust of wind in its aftermath.

That was enough to set me off balance, and I fell. The fist continued to glide and crashed into one of the dwarven rock faces. Stone shards spewed out in all directions, pelting me like shrapnel. Another earth-shaking vibration rippled through the room.

Everyone thinks bigger means slower, at least in folk stories. Stories also tended get people killed.

The shadow of the creature loomed over me as my torch rolled to one of the corners of the room. The thing was fast but didn’t have much in armor. It was naked, save for armor around its groin, and a spiked shoulderpad and vambrace that looked more for show than use.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. Analysis indicates…”

The Lorekeeper’s voice drowned out, as I focused on the task at hand. It was distracted, trying to pull its hand out of the wall.

I leapt ahead, avoiding the cracked and uneven floor, and with my left arm drove the sword toward its exposed side. There was a shriek as I felt the tip of blade sunk through skin, then stopped. Black blood gushed out of the puncture, and I pushed, as best I could with a single hand. It was like trying to cut through chainmail.

It tore its hand free from the stone, sending out another spray of dust that obscured my sight. I blinked through and just barely saw the fist barreling towards my direction. My sword slit free from the wound as I dashed back.

If it wasn’t livid already, it proved it by sending another deafening roar. I got a good look at its open mouth revealing twin rows of jagged teeth.

I grit my teeth and steadied my grip on the sword, shrugging off the sharp pain from the wound on my right shoulder and the growing fatigue in my left arm.

The fight resumed with my opponent taking a step forward, and swiped at me from the left. The arm whistled through the air like an arrow. I dodged the only way I could and dashed back.

Before I could get my bearing, another arm swiped from the right, faster than the last one, and I managed to avoid it in kind. By the time I landed, its other arm was already primed.

The flurry of blows continued, and I continued to jump back with each sweep. My breathing went from huffing to wheezing as I pushed myself my legs to move. Sweat had drenched my clothes, and each effort to dodge grew slower and more futile. The monster seemed to suffer none of that, each attack approaching as fast as the last.

I couldn’t keep this up. I needed to fight back. In all honesty, it was out of force of habit. Get out of the line of fire, open up opportunities for Alamere, Singlepipe, or Bluebeard to exploit. However, I was alone here.

With my next dash, I found myself backed into the wall. A fist the size of my torso shot towards my face.

I dove down, feeling the attack graze past my hair. There was a crunching sound as stone crumbled. Dust and shards pelted my neck. When I looked up, I saw the beast’ exposed belly. Seeing the chance, I pushed myself up and forward, through the screaming fatigue in my legs, and drove the sword forward.

The blade sunk through skin, and stopped. It was not enough.

There was a shriek then out of the corner of my vision, I saw a foot rearing towards me. There was a flash of pain in my gut as I was lifted sideways. I choked as the air was expelled from my chest. Darkness crawled around my vision, when I saw a set of claws sweep through the air.

I was sent flying through the air. Agony erupted from my ribs as the creature’s nails sheared through the armor, the metal plates of the brigandine doing little to absorb the impact. My travelsack was torn loose, the contents splaying outwards. I skidded then rolled across the floor, coming to a halt against the opposite wall.

Captain Falmore’s sword arrived a moment later, clinking across the ground and resting against my foot.

My chest was on fire, and it was like trying to breathe through a pipe. In spite of everything, I hefted myself up, even while every bruise, every scrape, every muscle burned through the effort. My brigandine billowed off my chest. There was jagged slit in the armor from where the claws struck, leaving it little more than a mass of shredded leather and crooked metal. I looped my left arm under the neck cuff and let it slide to the ground.

Shattered bricks fell, as the giant tore its arm out of the wall. I watched as it shifted its gaze to me.

Its breath smoked out from its nostrils. The slits around its body knit back together. It really was like some oversized forest troll, except with horns growing out of the back of its head than its mouth. Strength, endurance, reach, and now regeneration. It thumped toward me, each step sending tremors through the room.

I wobbled forward. It was like wading through water with a boulder attached to my limbs. I managed to bend over to reach and pick up the sword.

My grip was unsteady, whether it was from fear or exhaustion or both. My mind was racing through every possible solution. The mana band on my wrist read 5%. Any barrier I could draw now was not going to hold. There was no way I was going to be able to outrun it. I barely had the physical strength to dodge another blow.

Then a gnome appeared in front of me. His erratic hand movements caught my attention, and the Lorekeeper’s voice cut through my train of thought.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. My analysis states that you are not able to combat or evade the current entity in your current physical state. If you perish in this encounter, the likelihood of my survival afterwards will diminish to null.”

“I know that… Any ideas?”

The creature was half-way towards us. The Lorekeeper pointed toward my foot. There was a vial there, shimmering with blue light.

“The substance in that container is estimated to provide potential augmentation. Please, ingest it as soon as feasibly possible...”

I bent down and picked it up. Lyrium.

I knew the dangers of trying out potions without understanding what they did. Too many instances of seeing side effects gone awry. However, the Lorekeeper wasn’t wrong. His guidance often had unintended consequences, but he never had been wrong. At least not yet.

Besides, I had exhausted all other options, and I wasn’t about to die here. I had a promise to keep.

I grabbed the vial, bit and spat the cork off, then drained the contents down my mouth.

My throat clenched up out of habit. I was half-expecting it to taste foul, most potions tended to be that way. Instead, it was… refreshing? Sweet almost. Like pure water.

I swallowed the last bit, right as my massive opponent loomed over me, raising a clawed hand.

Then time slowed to a crawl.

It wasn’t just because I was facing my own mortality. I knew that feeling. From one too many brushes with death in the last four years.

No, this was something else.

I felt something bubbling out from my chest to my limbs. Wave after wave of warm sensation. It washed away all the aches, sores, and bruises that I had accumulated. The world sharpened, as if someone swept away a haze that was there.

There was something prickling the gash on my injured shoulder. My eyes shifted toward it. The earlier attack had torn off the bandage, and I saw new skin grow over the wound. In the blink of eye, the cut disappeared altogether.

I hadn’t felt this good in years. If ever. Lethargy, anxiety, fatigue all faded away, replaced only with resolve. I felt like I could move mountains with my hands and cross oceans with my feet. The core of light in my being was now brimming with energy, overflowing to the point that it radiated and wisped off my skin. My eyes followed one of the tendrils as it floated up, toward the giant fist that was closing down upon me.

I raised my own hand up high, forming the sigil with my fingers, and let the light flow out.

The dome that appeared shone like the afternoon sun. There was a wail from my opponent, jerking from the blinding light. Its hand still found purchase, sending a boom of noise and dust out from the impact.

The shield held. As solid as truesilver, and not a crack in sight.

The recoil from the blow and the light had set my opponent off balance. I closed the distance. My legs were as light as feathers, and a single step sent me unexpectedly flying through the air. With the sword in both hands, I sweeping with all my strength at its right knee.

The blade sheared through the joint. The creature shrieked in agony as momentum carried me forward, and away. I pressed my feet onto the floor before I went out of range, skidding to a halt near the opposite wall.

The monstrosity tried to charge, but could only muster up a limp. I recalled a moment from the past. During one of the few “sparring” matches I had against Singlepipe. “Always go after the limbs. Size means nothing if they can’t fight back.”

An idea got in my head. I ran towards my enemy, and as I drew close it drew its fist down upon me with a roar. The force rippled through the air, but my shield held, leaving the hand splayed against it. I hacked the sword down like a blunt instrument, chopping through the palm. There was a scream of agony, and the hand lifted, exposing the elbow. I wasted no time, and reared the blade around then back up, cutting sending a spray of black blood to the floor.

Even with two limbs down, it managed to scuffle up the will and strength to retaliate as its other arm swept down. The barrier rumbled once more, but held.

I repeated the maneuver on the other set of limbs, causing the creature to draw back, with three of its four limbs ruined.

However, I pressed the offensive, charging past it from the left while undercutting its remaining leg. With all of its limbs ruined, the creature fell flat.

I stood there, watching as it roared and struggled in fury. Its body shifting around, even as its arms and legs flopped around uselessly. Muscle, skin, and sinew began to knit itself back together.

I needed to end this, before it got back up or before the noise attracted any other unfriendly predators. I stepped towards its neck, raised the sword up high, and brought it down like an executioner’s blow.

Then there was silence.

I gasped and panted from the exertion, and immediately regretted doing so. There was a horrid stench that permeated the air. The cause was rather evident. From the dead bodies littering the doorway to the smears of blood and other vile fluids had been sprayed all over my clothes. Captain Falmore’s sword was completely coated in it.

I had no idea what these things were, and whether or not they were the cause of the dwarves’ departure or if they moved in after the fact. However, their presence was probably a good reason nobody ever came back.

Wisps of light continued to float off my skin. Curiously enough, whenever they petered toward the foreign fluids, causing them to bubble evaporate into smoke, leaving nothing but a dried patch in the midst.

The ink-like substance wasn’t conducive to the Light. My first thought was fel energy, but that couldn’t be it. However, I had time to figure that out later.

The Lorekeeper appeared next to me, surveying the site with its eyes.

“All hostile entities have been taken care of. Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood, I believe congratulations are in order.”

“Not yet… Also. Why weren’t you able to detect them earlier? Back in the last chamber. They were in the same room as us.”

“That remains unknown. I do not detect any faults with my capabilities. It must be the nature of the entities that interferes with my sensors.”

I sighed. There were still a ways to go, and there were probably going to be many more ambushes like this one ahead. On the bright side, I now had another tool up my sleeve.

I walked to the opposite side of the room, where my travelsack was splayed on the ground, along with half of its contents. Bandages, cloth rolls, extra torches, flint, and so on. Most of them were intact, much to my relief.

I stepped past them and to a set of blue vials. One was empty while the other three remained.

Lyrium. Whatever this substance was, it was potent. Like a potion of swiftness, haste, strength, Ironshield, and mana all bottled up in one tiny vial. No wonder the Chantry kept a tight control over their supply.

I wasn’t too sure of the side-effects, and I could still feel the effects of it running through my system.

“Lorekeeper, any idea on how long the effects of this will last?”

“Converting metrics… 30 minutes.”

That set off another question.

“How long have we been down here?”

“Since the moment we have begun our descent, approximately 2 hours, 25 minutes, and 37 seconds have passed.”

If I remembered correctly, we were still on the second level.

“Can you show me the map again?”

“Certainly.”

The Lorekeeper vanished and was replaced with the blue outline of the entire complex. I examined it, and realized I wasn’t even halfway through. There wasn’t any time to spare.

First, however I needed new equipment. I gathered up my belongings as best I could, picked up the torch, and stepped out to the hallway.

***

The room where I was ambushed hadn’t changed. Pools of dried and wet blood. Cold human corpses along with the black husks of the creatures. The smell lingered, but I was used to it. Or at least keep it mentally at bay.

I laid my belongings on dry ground, and began rummaging through the slain expedition. I found a man that looked my size piled up against a corner. When I got close, I noticed the trail of blood slithering down the side of his face. Death by blunt force to the head. His breastplate however, was still intact.

Scavenging from the dead was not something I partook in, not unless it was absolutely necessary. This was a necessary moment, so I unclipped the armor form the corpse. When I did, I realized that it was near the exact same make as the one that I tried on at Wade’s emporium. The man probably, got it as a free gift.

It was as good as the one that I tried on too. Strong but flexible.

With that taken care of, all I needed was a new travelsack. I went back through the bodies, hoping one of them had the sense to bring one for the expedition.

Leaning against a stone pillar, I found one lying face-up with something tied to its back.

When I stepped over, I noticed he wasn’t among those that I had seen on the first night of the expedition. His face still possessed the soft features of youth, not even old enough for his first mustache. A green recruit. It made sense the others would make him the packmule.

I shook my head. Just a boy, lured by the promise of riches and dead by happenstance.

I flipped him over, revealing a sack bound with two ropes around his shoulders as straps. It wasn’t much but it would do. I slipped the ropes, and unbound the top of the sack, removing the contents one by one.

There wasn’t anything too out of ordinary. A few spares clothes, most of which were too small for me. I had enough bandages so I left those on the floor. A couple of red healing poultices, similar to what I saw sold in the marketplace, I left those in the pouch. Next was a cloth bundle. I unfurled it, revealing a half loaf of bread. Without another thought I stuffed it down my throat. The bread was stale, nothing like what was served at Madame Lebois’, and the wretched smell in the air didn’t help make it more edible. However, I swallowed it down. I was light on food, and I was going to need all the energy I could get. Man as the saying goes, marches on his stomach.

The last set of contents were a sealed letter and a locket. I whipped out the letter, and noticed two words written below the wax seal.

- To Clarice

Inside the locket was a young woman in Chantry garb.

It took a moment for it to register, but I pushed the thought away. It was not time to dwell on such matters.

However, I left the letter and locket in the sack.

With the remaining space, I shuffled over, stuffed my belongings into their new container, then slung the ropes over my shoulders. Not comfortable, but better than nothing.

I looked to the dark stretch of hallways and rooms beyond, then continued the descent, sword in one hand, torch in the other.

***

The blade swept through the air, and put an end to the last of the creatures. It gurgled, then fell silent.

I stepped in in front of a set of double-doors, leading to my objective.

The trek had been one encounter after another with the creatures that roamed the halls. I learned that there were four types of them. Small ones, about the size of dwarves, that wielded axes and hammers. Skinny ones, that wielded daggers. Bulky ones, that used swords. And giant ones, that happened to use their fists and their horns.

I encountered none of the giants, except for the one on the second floor. Thankfully. I had enough on my plate with the rest of them.

I was on the third vial of lyrium. My mana band read 60%. The substance had no side-effects that I was aware of. Not even an inch of mana-fatigue or overdose, at least not so far. Good thing too, otherwise, I wasn’t sure if I would have made it any further.

There was one more left, sitting in a belt pouch. The last one that I drank would expire in about 15 minutes. Hopefully enough time to deal with whatever was in the next room, and begin making my way up the surface with the artifact.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. I must warn you that levels of corruption are extremely high in the area that you are venturing into. I recommend caution before proceeding.”

“Got it,” I said, then kicked the doors open.

It was dark inside, just like all the others.

I took a step inside, and taking a look above. Nothing hiding in the corners there. The creatures had a knack for overhead ambushes.

Every chamber and passageway thus far shared the same features. Old stone furnishings and dwarven architecture withering away with the passage of time to debris and then dust.

The light of the torch illuminated a room that defied my expectations.

There was a carpet, for instance. Plainly patterned and, despite the orange tint cast by the flame of the torch, I was certain it was some shade of red.

It stretched from the doorway to the end of the room. There were wooden tables and chairs scattered on either side, and at the end, was a stone block carved into something that resembled an altar.

I pulled out the roll of parchment with the description of the artifacts. I looked back through the room, and didn’t see anything resembling one.

Maybe it was hidden somewhere. Worst case scenario, it was long gone, and all my earlier efforts were futile. I erred on the side of optimism and began looking around the room.

Much to my surprise, the tables were made of wood. Not even a speck of dust atop the platforms. Someone was keeping this place well-kept, even though they weren’t present at the moment. I doubted it was any of the creatures that I encountered along the way. Everything about them so far did not lead me to believe they valued cleanliness.

I didn’t realize it at first but here I couldn’t smell a damn thing in the room. Not the vile odor of blood, rock, soil, or dust. Even stranger, I wasn’t bothered by the fact. Although, it felt like I should have. Every step I took echoed, despite there being no reason to. The fire of the torch seemed to wane and wax, with each blink of my eye.

The shadows seemed to be shift. Even the walls and the tables seemed to bend ever so slightly.

I had made a complete circle and found no artifact. Maybe if I did another turn…

One of the tables in the corner caught my eye. I didn’t recall it being slanted like that, with the platform being turned away from me. There was something was familiar about it.

I decided to investigate further, and as I stepped closer; the torch revealed a pair of wooden gears connected by a bar at the top edge of the table. A coil of rope looped around the center. My eyes darted to a pair of pliers on the ground. Something was wrong, everything here was just like that evening. A bead of sweat slithered down my head.

I didn’t want to see what was on that table, and yet I knew.

I turned my head away, and all the tables had changed to racks. Flashes of images. A red dress. Pale, unblinking eyes. The mask. And the screaming, oh the screaming. A low voice whispering.

“It is as the Light commands…”

I spun away, looking toward the altar, and realized something floating above the altar. It was a black mass, with even darker chains stretched across near every inch of its surface. I didn’t know how but knew that it was alive as it writhed and shook against the bindings.

The walls melted away to reveal a green mist. An outline peered out above. A solitary citadel, dark and morass. Something was there, something ancient.

The screams got louder and louder.

“Stop!”

I shot my hand out and the light pulsed out of my core. The flare blotted out all other colors, leaving nothing but white.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. I have detected high levels of mental stimulus. Are you well?”

I blinked and found myself standing in front of the doorway. There were no screams, the torch had fallen on the floor, and my left hand was stretched ahead.

“I’m-I’m fine.”

I didn’t know what had happened. Whether it was a side-effect from the lyrium or if it was some spell or if it was just me finally going insane. Regardless, I picked up the torch, and entered the room.

It was empty, all save for a jar.

I took a look around just to be sure. I even called upon the light to my hand for better illumination.

Nothing.

I stepped forward and crouched before the artifact. It was small, about the size of my hand. There were symbols etched over the lid, ones written in no language that I was familiar with.

“Lorekeeper, do you detect anything strange about this object?”

“Scanning… I have detected some type of arcane lattice around the object. The purpose, appears to be a container of some sort.”

A magical container, shaped like a jar. I didn’t know what was in it, but that wasn’t any of my business. All that mattered was getting it back.

I picked it up, it was light and oddly warm to the touch, then slipped it into my bagpack. I was careful to wrap it among the cloth bandages, to prevent it from breaking on the return journey.

Before I left, I took one look back in the room. Still empty. No carpet, altars, floating castles, or tables.

I took a deep breath to clear my thoughts. It was all in the past. No reason to dredge up old memories.

My steps carried me away, but the echoes of the past lingered.

***

“By the Maker’s balls, Did the bastard actually do it?”

The voice drew up relief, because it meant I had reached the surface, and ire, because of who spoke it.

“Aye,” I said, grabbing the edge of the hole and pulling myself up into sunlight.

The sky was painted red like blood from the setting sun. I had enough of that color for a day, let alone a lifetime. There was the soft rustle of trees as a gale passed by, sending shivers across my body as it cut through the sweat that drenched my clothes. Discomforting, but relaxing. I closed my eyes for a moment as I took in the fresh air.

“Well what are you standing down there for! Come up.”

I opened my eyes to see Taoran peering towards me from the edge of the pit, one hand stretched in an invitation. My hand reached out, and he pulled me up.

“So,” he said. “How did it go?”

I shrugged. “A bit of trouble but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“You mean to tell me the darkspawn weren’t nothing but a bit of trouble?”

Darkspawn? That’s what those things were?

Taoran was eying me with a mix of surprise and awe, then looked down at my new breastplate.

“You met the initial expedition I suppose?”

I nodded. “No survivors.”

“Well, that’s a shame. On the bright side though-”

“Did you retrieve the artifact?” another voice cut in from the side.

Deverra, with her two acquaintances, were behind us, their black cloaks flapping in the wind. They stood as resolute as statues and if one took a look at the faces behind the helmets, I was certain they were equally empty of expression. It was a bit jarring, the only time I felt this way was when I spoke with that tranquil fellow that ran the shop for the Chantry.

I unslung my travelsack, and clasped the jar out.

She stepped forward, one hand reaching to grab it, but I yanked it back. Her two guards took a step forward, and I reached for my sword in turn. Deverra raised a hand, and they halted.

“Now let’s not be too hasty,” Taoran said, stepping between us.

“We had an agreement,” I said, looking at Deverra.

I couldn’t see her expression through that mask of hers, but I could feel her eyes boring through mine.

“Of course.” She waved a hand forward.

One of her guards stepped out around the rock, then returned. Between his hands was a small chest. He laid it on the ground in front of us, then opened it to reveal hundreds of glittering silver coins.

Taoran whistled.

“There is enough there to compensate you as requested,” Deverra said. “We have proven true to our part of the bargain. Now we ask you hold true to yours.” Her hand reached out.

I nodded, then handed over the jar.

She inspected it, paying close attention to the symbols inscribed on the lid. Then she looked back at me.

“The Master will be very pleased with this. I believe this will further cement our mutually supportive agreement.” She turned her attention to Taoran. “More opportunities will be made available in the future.”

“Of course,” said Taoran. “The price was well worth it.”

I did not reply as I knelt and closed the chest.