Dragon Age: The Silences Song

Chapter 8:

"Halt! Please state your name and reason for visiting Orzammar." A thick-bearded dwarf, arms crossed and eyes sharp, stood guard at the entrance.

"Cullen Rutherford, commander of the Inquisition," Cullen replied. "Under the orders of the Grey Wardens, here to investigate the disappearance of the darkspawn."

The dwarf studied him for a moment, assessing the weight of his words and the presence he carried. "Very well, but don't overstay your welcome," he grunted, stepping aside to open the entrance.

As they passed through, Cullen felt as though he had crossed into another realm entirely. The air was different here, thick with the scent of stone and metal, imbued with the essence of history. The Dwarven architecture was a marvel—intricate stonework that spoke of artistry and craftsmanship unmatched by any he had ever seen. Statues of the Paragons towered above them, their stone faces immortalizing the glory of dwarven legends, gazing down as if to judge the worthiness of those who entered their domain.

They moved through yet another set of massive doors, and the dwarven market came into full view. It was a cacophony of sound and color—a world alive with energy.
Without as much as a word, the first dwarf they encountered nodded in the direction of the Deep Roads. Cullen returned the gesture with a silent nod of gratitude. It was clear that word of his arrival had spread, the dwarves well-informed and perhaps wary of his purpose.

The market was alive with the sounds of bustling life—shouts of vendors hawking their wares mingled with the clang of metal and the faint, endearing squeaks of nugs scurrying about.

"Stay close," he said, glancing at La'el and Elizabeth as they navigated through the bustling throng.

A red-haired dwarf with a thick, unruly beard came into view.. "You finally arrived, you sack of nugskins!" the dwarf called out, his voice booming with boisterous mirth.

Cullen squinted at the figure. "Are you drunk?" La'el asked, her brow furrowing as she noticed the dwarf swaying slightly on his feet.

"Drunk?" The dwarf chuckled. "Nah, lass! I fight better when I can't see who I hit!" He flashed a grin, revealing a set of crooked teeth and a mischievous glint in his eye. La'el shivered at the sight.

"Are you Oghren?" Cullen stepped forward, his voice steady despite the dwarf's apparent inebriation.

"The one and only!" Oghren proclaimed, puffing out his chest like a proud rooster. "You must be the Inquisition's fancy commander, huh? Heard a lot about you—none of it flattering!" He laughed heartily, as if sharing an inside joke, before hiccupping loudly.

Cullen exchanged a glance with Elizabeth and La'el.

"Are you to enter the Deep Roads with this cloudgazer?" a dwarf at the entrance demanded, his voice a gruff rumble as he scrutinized Oghren with narrowed eyes.

"Cloudgazer!" Oghren shouted "Why, you ungrateful sods! I saved you from the blight!"

The guard snorted, unimpressed. "We see darkspawn every day down here, Oghren. The blight made no difference to us. Don't act like your intentions were pure."

"Sodding mud-worms," Oghren muttered under his breath, irritation flickering across his face as he turned away from the guard. He began to march down the dark, winding path leading into the Deep Roads, his boots echoing against the stone floor. "Are you coming or not?" he shouted back over his shoulder, his tone impatient.

Cullen shrugged and followed the dwarf. "You'd better know where you're going," he muttered.

"I know these roads better than you know your own mother—"

"Can we maintain some decorum?" Cullen cut him off, his tone sharp. "You're in the presence of a noblewoman."

Oghren snorted, glancing at Elizabeth with a mischievous grin. "Oh, spare me. Blue eyes here probably knows more about what I was about to say than you ever will, Curly."

"I wonder what you're like when you're sober," La'el asked as she walked beside Oghren, glancing down at the grizzled dwarf.

Oghren shot her a sideways look, amused. "I don't do sober, kid."

"Why not?" La'el's innocent curiosity shone through.

"Because sober's for people who don't have memories they'd rather drown," Oghren muttered.

"Isn't it the memories that make life worth living?" La'el asked, tilting her head, clearly puzzled.

Oghren let out a harsh snort, his face darkening. "If it weren't for my son—" He stopped abruptly, his jaw tightening. "Bah, forget it. Life ain't worth living, pointy-ears, not the way you think."

"I think life's fun!" La'el replied, her steps light and full of energy as she skipped alongside him.

"Only because you're young, lass," Oghren chuckled. "When I was your age, I'd drink ale and wake up without a hangover. Now I just drink ale and wake up with a hangover." He sighed, shaking his head.

"Oh, how awful," Elizabeth chimed in, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I bet you drink one of those fancy Antivan wines, my lady, and you'd be passed out until morning," Oghren mocked.

"I bet I could drink you under the table with that black spit you call dwarven ale," she shot back, her eyes sparkling with challenge.

"Oi! Dwarven ale is the finest brew a man or dwarf can find!" Oghren exclaimed, puffing out his chest. "It's got character!"

"It's the ability to give a man diarrhea," Cullen interjected with a straight face.

"Ooh, look at that! Curly can joke too," Oghren retorted, a grin spreading across his bearded face. "Maybe there's hope for you yet!"

Cullen only grunted in response, his focus shifting to La'el as she called out, her voice laced with concern. "Guys, what's that?" She pointed ahead, her expression tightening.

Oghren squinted into the darkness. "That, pointy ears," he said, drawing his axe from behind his back, the metal glinting faintly in the dim light, "is called a deepstalker."