Who even cares about this blue stuff, anyway?

[furtive_heroics]

Ugh. Dwarves. Nothing against them, but their security is a nightmare. For smugglers. One nice, neat gate to the surface, then no other entrance but the deep roads. Stupid. What happens when they all need to book it to the surface in an earthquake? What if their lava thingy erupts? There are a lot of crispy dwarves, that's what. And a lot of grumpy smugglers. Bad planning. No stars.

Veron managed it anyway. Because he's awesome. But it involved - um. Very creative planning, and it's not the sort of thing he'd like to repeat. So before he drops off his smuggled package, he's investigating other ways into Orzammar. There are various entrances into the deep roads, and an entrance into the deep roads from Orzammar. It stands to reason one could sneak into Orzammar and out of it through the back entrance. He bought a map, he's going to look. It's worth a shot, and it's a smart idea.

Well. Except for the darkspawn. Veron's lingering at the entrance of the deep roads, thinking about all of the horrible stories about darkspawn and wishing there was more than just - him. Maybe a bunch of Grey Wardens. An entire platoon of them.

Comments

[first_and_final]

There is a sound from deep within the tunnel.

The sound gradually resolves into muttered swearing.

"...another fucking day I'm going to start seriously considering throwing myself in a lava pit, come on, it's got to be somewhere around here, come on come on don't make me turn around and take my chances with the darkspawn again... oh, shit!"

With a scrape and a clatter, someone climbs out of the anonymous little hole in the ground that appears on Veron's map as an entrance to the Deep Roads. He is short, skinny, wearing badly fitted armour and a mismatched selection of daggers and longswords, and covered in stinking black slime. Blue sparks swirl out of his mouth with every breath.

"Ugh," he groans, squinting his eyes shut and shielding them with an upraised arm. "No one fucking told me sky would be so bright."

[furtive_heroics]

"It's recommended not to stare at it," offers Veron, helpfully. "Hello there, you look like death. Or undeath, did a mage get you?"

[first_and_final]

"Not to my knowledge! Atrast vala, friend," says the strange dwarf, still covering his eyes. "I can't actually see you at the moment, but I can tell you're not a darkspawn and that's good enough for me. Do you know where I might be able to find a bath? Or perhaps some food? The bath, frankly, is more important." Everything he says is accompanied by more little puffs of blue sparks.

[furtive_heroics]

"I - have food, there's a stream nearby so you can probably take care of the bath there. Are you sure a mage didn't get you, you're breathing blue sparks. I don't think that's normal?"

[first_and_final]

"...It's a long story. Bath first," he says.

[furtive_heroics]

"Okay. Stream's this way. You'll forgive me if I don't help you bathe?"

[first_and_final]

"I can manage by myself," he snorts, tentatively lowering his arm so he can squint at Veron for directions.

[furtive_heroics]

Veron starts walking in the direction of the stream, stops and looks at the strange dwarf, and reconsiders. Practically blind, and all. "Here," he sighs, offering him a hand. "I'll lead you."

[first_and_final]

"Thank you," says Stalas. He manages to locate Veron's hand, but pauses before actually touching it. "Um, I'm covered in darkspawn blood, though, can't be good for your health, but it hasn't killed me yet so you might be all right as long as you wash it off before touching food."

[furtive_heroics]

"Sleeve, instead, then?" he offers. "I have long sleeves. You can cling to them like a lost child as I lead you to a stream where you can take a bath."

[first_and_final]

"Sleeve, sure." It takes a bit more squinting to definitively tell sleeve from hand, but then Stalas grabs onto the sleeve without besliming any actual skin.

[furtive_heroics]

Cool! Hooray for all of them.

Veron leads the skinny dwarf to water, but he does not make him drink. Or bathe.

"Here we are. Do you want me to leave food for you, or something...?"

[first_and_final]

"Um... I could come get the food after I am clean, if... I had any idea how to navigate aboveground, which I don't. I think I'm adjusting to the light, at least!"

[furtive_heroics]

He snorts. "Should I hang around, stare at some clouds or something and make sure you don't - I don't know. Wander off and get yourself lost or dead?"

[first_and_final]

"That would be very kind of you. I'd appreciate it."

[furtive_heroics]

"I'm a nice guy." He goes a short distance away, puts a tree between himself and Stalas, and calls, "How did you end up wandering out of the deep roads, anyway?"

[first_and_final]

"Well, that would be the end of the long story," he says. "I'm sure this is going to take a while, so if you like, I can start from the beginning."

[furtive_heroics]

"Sure, go for it. Run off from the dead legion? Surface dwarf looking for riches? Fall in with that banished prince?"

[first_and_final]

...He starts laughing.

[furtive_heroics]

"... What, did I actually get one right? Which one?"

[first_and_final]

"None of them, technically!"

Giggle.

"All right, all right. My name," he says, "is Stalas Aeducan. And I am the banished prince. But like I said, that's the end of the story. How much of the story do you already have?"

[furtive_heroics]

Veron starts laughing.

"Ha! Wow, okay then. I only have a bit of the story. Might not even be true. Just - start from the beginning anyway?"

[first_and_final]

"Sure. So, my mother was a noble hunter - do I have to explain noble hunters? I don't think they have them on the surface."

[furtive_heroics]

"I was in Orzammar. Merchant. I know what noble hunters are, continue."

Well, he is technically a merchant.

[first_and_final]

"Okay. My mother was a noble hunter. Her patron had a rival. When she got pregnant with me, the rival had her poisoned with some seriously nasty stuff, and she tried all kinds of crazy treatments in an effort to live long enough to have me. Well, she succeeded. But some combination of all that left me a skinny weed who bruises if you look at him funny and bleeds lyrium - I mean, not pure lyrium, obviously, but more lyrium than an ordinary dwarf can have flowing in his blood and still live. I'm pretty sure that is a major contributor to the blue sparks thing, which is why I started there."