//------------------------------// // Self-Worth and Family Scars // Story: Ponies and Grey Wardens: A Dark Spawn // by Icecane //------------------------------// Far west of Vigil's Keep, the Warden-Commander and his two comrades stared into the gaping maw before them. The earth cracked open like jagged jaws, stretching wide to swallow up anything that neared it. An ever present feeling of dread stayed in the air around the crevice, chilling the bones of less stalwart warriors. But they were mighty Grey Wardens, those who laughed in the face of the dark creatures that lurched within the deep recesses. Without a word, the Commander trekked down, being eaten alive by the stretched gullet. Behind him, the two brothers, Aseril and Tearser followed. Their eyes looked about where they were, the strange sights being so foreign to them. Though holding the taint in their blood for some time, to fully embrace the corrupted presence of the darkspawn for the first time nearly choked them. Despite the ominous opening in the earth, its actual depth left much to be desired. Only twenty feet separated the bottom of the small crevice from the surface world. With large platforms of rock jutting out of the wall, the Grey Wardens found easy footing to climb down. Upon reaching the bottom however, the two novice warriors were shocked at what they found. A large gate, clearly of dwarven make by the design of it, completely concealing whatever was beyond the thick blockade of shaped stone. Nearly twice their size, two doors pressed into each other to keep unwanted visitors out, looking more impenetrable than the walls that surrounded the keep itself. Save for the typical designs put into dwarven architecture, the only defining feature on it was the large insignia of the Grey Wardens carved into the center, as well as a noticeable hole made into the far side. “Amazing,” Aseril remarked, holding his chin in his hand as he inspected the design. “And this leads to...” “The Deep Roads,” Commander Cousland said, holding a prideful smirk as he gazed at the gate himself. “Years back, a small raid of darkspawn managed to dig their way up to the surface at this very spot. Of course, with how close they were to the keep, they were easily taken care of.” A loud laugh came from Tearser as he rapped his knuckles against the mighty walls. “Stupid beasts,” he said snidely, “attacking the Wardens directly. Like that would ever work.” Wearing an uneasy smile, the commander chuckled lightly, saying, “Well... you'd be surprised... But anyway. Normally, we collapse such tunnels, make sure no other darkspawn can funnel their way in. But I decided to have a few of my dwarven friends build this gate instead. While dangerous, the Deep Roads are an incredibly fast way of travel if you know where you're going.” “Where are we going exactly?” Aseril asked, yet to be told what the commander's plan was. “We're headed for an outpost far into the Deep Roads,” the commander replied, searching through his bag as he spoke. “It's something I had the dwarves of Orzammar help build years ago for an old friend. It's closer to the underground city, but it'll be much faster if we cut through the Deep Roads instead of traveling across Ferelden.” Finished with his short search, the Warden-Commander held up a piece of rock carved into a rectangular shape. Other than its shape, the only other detail about it were the intricate notches at the end of it, showing a meticulously carved design. Without a word, the object was inserted into the door, the commander pausing only for a moment before he twisted it like a key to a normal door. The miniscule pit they were in then echoed with a loud, stone clacking noise, like a real door unlocking only amplified greatly. Soon after it, the sound of stone grinding against stone came. To the astonishment of the two Grey Wardens, the doors began to move. As the mighty gate opened, the grinding continued. Within moments however, it immediately stopped, the opening just large enough for people to be able to slip through. Putting the rectangular key away, the commander turned to his companions and gestured for them to follow. “Let's get going,” he said, looking through the dark opening into the tunnel that was ahead. Beyond the stone gate, the darkness of the Deep Roads beckoned to them. Though at the far end of it all, a dim light could be seen, it did little to scare away the abysmal nothingness at the start. None of it was noticed by the Warden however, gaze set forward as his destination was made clear, his fellows following straight behind him. Their steps never faltered, even as the noise of grinding stone filled the air once again, and the gates slammed shut behind them. Sighing pleasantly, Sigrun sat down next to Twilight and Oghren, holding a small bowl of cooked rice as she began eating from it. The red-haired dwarf's eyes narrowed as they remained locked on the cards in his hand, while the mare held a similar gaze on the hand she levitated before her. Sigrun simply watched the two as they wordlessly tossed a card from their hand into the ever growing pile in front of them before drawing another. “You're not doing too bad for your first time at playing diamondback,” the female dwarf murmured to the pony. “It's a lot similar to something we have in Equestria,” Twilight replied, her eyes nearly reflecting the gears in her head turning. “Sometimes my friends like to play card games, I usually get dragged to play too.” A soft smile appeared on the dwarf's face, still finding humor in conversing with what amounted to a mode of travel in Ferelden. “Do you know a lot about our world?” she then asked curiously. “I can only imagine what it must be like in your own home. Magic as plentiful as water, no humans, elves or dwarves... no darkspawn... I can't wrap my head around such a place.” With a light laugh, Twilight nodded her head in understanding. “I know a bit, and meeting the others certainly helped me understand a little about what it's like here,” she admitted. “Even now though... I'm not used to simply how different it feels just being here. At least... I know he's here as well... and that makes it all worth it...” The mare's lavender cheeks blushed slightly as her smile grew all the more bright. Sigrun saw the look herself, unable to help herself but giggle like a young girl. “Well,” she started, “I suppose if you're going to fall for anyone, the commander's a good choice.” “Do you know him well?” the unicorn asked. Though the dwarf's name wasn't too familiar with her, Twilight could almost swear that she had heard of her at least once back when the Warden regaled her with stories of his many adventures. Shrugging slightly, Sigrun waved her hand in a simple gesture. “Better than some, I guess,” she answered. “Not as well as Oghren or King Alistair do, but I've fought by his side several times. He saved me when the rest of my comrades were slaughtered by the darkspawn.” A light chuckle escaped her. “It's almost funny... seeing as I'm part of the Legion of the Dead. But, I later found out just what the darkspawn would have planned for me and...” she closed her eyes, her body shuddering, “I escaped a fate worse than anything else I could imagine. Even now, I'm proud to be of help to him. Surprising really, how I'd one day have such respect for a noble. Never before have I seen one as selfless as him. Though, that may just be the bias of a casteless...” Grunting loudly, Oghren grabbed a small bottle of whine, taking a swig before he looked at the two girls and said, “You're not too far off. Most nobles are about as worthless as they think peasants are. Only nobles I've ever seen act with any ability are the ones who've never held a scrap of real title to them, like that royal bastard Alistair. Those damned nobles back in Orzammar, with skin nearly as soft as an elfs with egos to match, could learn a thing or two from them.” “But he lost everything, didn't he?” Twilight returned, knowing of the Warden's bloody past. With a nod, Oghren remained silent as he looked at his latest hand of cards. “That's right,” he said, tossing another card into the pile. “But that wasn't what made him who he is. The Warden's the best damned example I've seen of how this sodding world should work. It doesn't matter if you're born noble or casteless, dealt a lucky hand or a crotch-kicking awful one, all that matters is what you do in spite of it.” Rubbing his hairy chin, the dwarf gave a weary sigh before continuing. “Take it from a once drunkard of a warrior not worth the stone he walked on, whose now a proud warrior of the Grey Wardens because of him.” “He certainly is a hero, even in Equestria,” Twilight murmured, her smile slowing drooping. “But, I still worry for him.” A hearty laugh exploded from Oghren, hand running across his mouth to clean it of the remaining droplets of ale from his latest drink. “You sound just like Felsi,” he said as his mirth ended. “Never have it in me to tell her we mostly just sit on our asses these days. Course, I suppose that's just how things are, you wouldn't be very caring if you didn't worry.” “But you really don't need to,” Sigrun added. “He's the Hero of Ferelden after all. A few lowly darkspawn aren't going to be much of a challenge for him.” With another laugh, Oghren's lips splayed out in a wide grin as he said, “Ha! If the Warden meets his end down there, then the rest of Thedas might as well bend over and wait for their thorough pipe cleaning!” The Deep Roads were certainly a marvelous sight. Even in their ruined state, the long trail of dwarven carved paths, forever tainted by the darkspawn, they still held a grand magnificence. A massive, seemingly never-ending chamber as large as any great hall in the most imposing of castles. Mighty stone pillars held up the ceiling, keeping it all from collapsing on them. It was all illuminated by a beautiful, orange light coming from the twin rivers of lava at both sides of the trail. One could only imagine how beautiful the Deep Roads once were, connecting the dwarven cities into one vast, underground empire, before the shadows of the darkspawn fell over the world. It was that very thought that went through Commander Cousland's head as he sat there, eyes idly looking away from the simple map in his hands to take in his surroundings. Marked on the parchment, a crude depiction of the immediate area showed them where they were, as well as how far they had to go to get to their destination. Though there was no true sense of time within the underground passageway, they at least knew they had been traveling for some time, allowing themselves a rest. Folding the map and tucking it away in his traveling bag, the commander took a large bite out of the dried meat he had packed. Washing it down with water from his flask, the Warden smiled at how nostalgic it felt. Perhaps not the grandest of meals, but the simple feast brought back many memories of sitting before a roaring fire, eating alongside friends made through their quest to save Ferelden. There was no need for such a fire now though, the bubbling liquid fire around them offering enough heat and light for them. Aseril sat nearby, his back against a large chunk of rubble, shattered from the broken pillar just next to him. The young man wordlessly ate his own food, eyes distant as he looked to not all be there. The commander wondered what he was thinking, perhaps the very same question that was plaguing his own thoughts. “Sorry about the lack of any fun,” the Warden-Commander said, his eyes drifting toward his sword at his side. It had gone unused since they had entered the Deep Roads, completely clean. “I'm not sure why... We should have encountered some darkspawn. Maybe we'll find some closer to the outpost.” “You make it sound like it's a bad thing,” Aseril remarked. A shrug came from the Warden as he put away the rest of his food, not wanting to eat all of his rations so early into their journey. “I had hoped you'd get the chance to fight some, a little experience can go a long way. Ah well, if this world isn't short on anything, it's those blighted monsters.” Chuckling lightly, he looked off further into the current hall they were in. “Maybe they're just waiting for us to rest, cut our throats while we sleep. Don't worry about that though, we'd sense them coming before they had the chance. Wouldn't be the first time they've tried that trick anyway...” Loud grunts of exertion could be heard echoing nearby. It wasn't difficult to find the source however. Just a short distance away, Tearser was still standing, his large sword clutched between his hands as he swung it about, looking as though he was fighting an invisible adversary. Sweat coated his face, making it clear how long he had been at it. After several more swings, he sheathed the mighty blade and dropped to the ground, not pausing for a moment of rest as he began doing push ups. Smiling to himself, the commander laughed as he murmured, “Speaking of fighting darkspawn... Tearser! You won't be much use if you're too exhausted to fight off the darkspawn!” “Don't... don't count on it!” Tearser shouted back, kicking off of the ground and raising his body fully upright with his hands flat on the stone floor. With his newly formed handstand, he again began bending and straightening his arms, body shaking from the sudden strain. The Warden merely watched the young man go. Eventually, he looked toward the younger brother, murmuring, “A bit too eager to work up a good sweat... Has he always been like that?” Nodding listlessly, Aseril hugged his knees to his chest, resting his chin between them. “Yeah...” he said quietly. “Tearser's always been... one to prove how strong he is. Mostly it's to himself, other times... it's to our father...” His tone was strange, the commander unable to tell if it was one of sadness or contempt. “Your father?” the Warden questioned, being the first time he had ever heard of him. “He must be a great warrior, to sire such strong sons.” Aseril's mouth simply formed into a small frown, eyes looking downward at the featureless ground. “He is... or was... I'm not really sure which to say,” he murmured. “We've never actually met him before. All we've ever known about him was how strong of a warrior he was... and that he loved our mothers very much.” Noticing the gaze he had earned, the young Grey Warden knew he had to elaborate. “We have two different mothers,” he explained. “And all we really know about them is what father saw in them, both supposedly being quite gifted with magic.” “Had a thing for mages, huh?” the Warden offhandedly said. Though, for him, it was completely coincidental, he could oddly relate. Huffing slightly, Aseril again nodded, replying, “You could say that... Other than what little we heard about them, we had nothing else in the way of 'family'. We grew up around a lot of others like us. I think we were supposed to look at them like siblings, but we never did. Just as we were were nothing more than a single large group to our caretaker.” A weary, dejected sigh came from him. “Never anything more to her...” From what the commander gathered, they must have grown up in an orphanage somewhere. It was a sad fate, but it didn't seem like they were doing too bad for themselves now. The Warden was technically an orphan himself, and a good friend of his also had a similar fate to the young Grey Wardens, raised without any kind of family. He didn't seem to turn out too badly either, if one were to look past the fact that he killed people for money.