Chapter 76: Ruthless Necessity

When I woke to the sound of electronic equipment beeping, I swore out loud. I should have known better than to think too hard about returning to Earth. I wondered where I'd find myself when I returned – somewhere alone in the Deep Roads? Left behind in Orzammar? I looked around; it was light outside, and sunlight was streaming through the window in the room I shared with three other hospital beds. All three showed signs of occupation, but no one was around.

I was grateful to find myself dressed in clothing again, and briefly wondered if it was normal to tip a 'guardian' who followed instructions exceptionally well. I sat up and laced on my boots before wandering out into the hallway. I found a nurse sitting at the desk out front; she was surprised to see me, and her face went pale when I walked up to the desk. Her eyes searched my face, and I wondered what on Earth she could be so scared of. I told her I was heading to the gift shop, and she nodded; I didn't ask for more details, not sure I wanted to know until I saw my doctor again.

The elderly gift shop manager I'd spoken to before was in, fortunately, and had done me an enormous personal favour of going to an electronics store and buying me a solar device charger with an adaptor for my iPhone. He'd tried to order one through the store, but when that hadn't panned out, in a fit of compassion for a coma patient who wasn't allowed to leave the hospital and had no family to speak of, he went to a Best Buy and purchased one. He figured he'd give it to his grandson for his birthday if I never returned for it.

It was expensive – much more than the little rechargeable ones I'd bought previously – but I figured it would be worth it to keep access to my music more permanently. Not that it would help in the Deep Roads... I turned back around and bought another of the smaller, ten dollar chargers as well.

Those things done, I returned to my room and spent the next few hours trying to wish myself back to Thedas. I never saw my doctor, and so dodged the lecture I was sure he'd have given me otherwise.

It must have worked, because I woke up looking at a stone ceiling. I wasn't in a bed, however, and my first thought was to panic – was I alone somewhere in the Deep Roads?

A gruff voice coming from off to my left reassured me that at least I wasn't alone.

"Oi, you there. Topsider. What are ya doin down there?"

I looked over, to see a very old, very jaundiced, casteless dwarf. He had a large brand across his forehead, around one eye, and covering one cheek; he was so wrinkled that I couldn't even guess what shape the dark splotch was meant to be. His teeth were yellow and several were missing as he gave me a creepy grin.

"Where am I?"

"Ah, little too much grog at Tapsters, I'd guess? Yer in Dust Town, sweetness. Pacifically, you're in my alley."

That explains the smell, then. It took significant effort not to correct him and say 'specifically'. I suppressed a smile and sat up.

I was wedged between two stone walls, and the ceiling hung low above; nothing like the fifty or eighty foot ceilings in the commons. I could only barely see the opening to the narrow alley past the filthy dwarf blocking my path.

"I'm very sorry, Ser. If you move, I'll get out of your alley right away."

I worked my way slowly to my feet, trying not to startle him.

"Oh, now, I'm not so sure I can let the insult stand, skyer. I have a reputation, after all. I might require some sort of ... award."

I assumed he meant reward. "I can help with that! Come with me, and when I get to the Grey Wardens, I'm sure they'll be happy to give you some coin for helping me out. What do you say? Give a girl an escort to the Diamond Quarter?"

He leaned casually against the wall, evaluating me. And clearly blocking my path. I started to get really nervous. "Well, yer not a Grey Warden, so why would they want you back?"

"My brother is a Grey Warden. He's a human noble, too. He'll pay handsomely for aiding me, I assure you."

"That so." He spat, and I twitched, trying to avoid the disgusting gob flying toward my feet. "Well, in that case, I think I've got someone who'd like to meetcha."

He lunged, suddenly, wrapping one broad, stubby hand around my upper arm. Realising he wasn't going to let me go, I dropped down into the stance Zevran had taught me; I was slightly off balance without armour, but I managed not to fall. I grabbed his wrist, pivoting and shifting my hips, tossing him over my shoulder to land on his face on the stone. I had assumed, given his age, that he'd be down for the count; he surprised me with his agility, springing up underneath me, twisting and sweeping my feet out from under me. I went down with a grunt; unarmed, I was a one trick pony, and when my head stopped spinning from the goose egg I could feel forming on my occiput, I realised he was poised above me, a wicked-looking improvised shiv held threateningly in front of my face.

I put my hands out, carefully, to the side, palms open outward. "Okay, okay. You got me. No need to shed any blood. I'm worth less to you damaged."

He grabbed my arm again, wrestling me to my feet, the point of the improvised knife never far from my skin. I cursed the stupidity of showing up in Thedas in jeans and a sweater, wishing I'd had armour made on Earth. Mind you, that's one sure way to get a free one-way trip to the psych ward. I huffed in frustration.

"Alright, who are we going to meet?"

"You've never met'er, sweetheart, but her name's Jarvia."

My heart dropped. Why am I even surprised?

We walked through dust town, ducking from shadowy corner to shadowy corner, while I frantically looked for an opportunity to escape, or even draw attention to myself. I didn't expect any of the casteless to come to my aid, but if even a rumour of a human being manhandled in Dust Town reached Solona, I figured she might at least come looking. The streets were quiet, though, and the knife against my skin prevented me from anything like escape.

We reached a plain door, and my captor kicked the door twice, hard. The door was around an inconspicuous corner, hidden from prying eyes; the sound echoed, but no one would be able to see us. We waited a few minutes, and he kicked again, harder this time.

A little window I hadn't noticed slid open, and I could see one suspicious eye looking through at us; given my height, he was staring right at my chest.

"What?" the man behind the door demanded.

My captor shifted us sideways so he could be seen. "Open up, dimwit. Got someone the boss is gonna wanna meet."

"Where's yer damn key, Tooth?"

"Got my hands full, dummy! Lemme in!"

With a bit more grumbling, the window slid shut and the door opened. I was pushed roughly through the opening into a dimly lit corridor, not even tall enough for me to stand straight. Was it this bad in game? I'm pretty sure I dragged Shale through here, and she wouldn't fit even on all fours. I bent over slightly, stumbling as I was pushed from behind and the door swung shut. I found myself facing two armed, ugly, casteless dwarves.

"Move, sweetheart," my captor said, pointing down the hall.

I scurried along, hunched over, following the doorman, cursing my height for what had to be the first time ever. I was soon lost – we passed multiple doorways and took several turns; I couldn't keep track of the way we'd come, and I almost wondered if he'd doubled back on himself a time or two just to confuse me. I knew where I must be – the Carta hideout in Dust Town should be the only place this insanely large and convoluted. I was proven right when we finally stepped through a door and came to a halt in front of a dark-haired, female casteless I recognised right away – Jarvia.

The room was cold, and still dim, though slightly brighter than the hallways had been. The walls, floor, and ceiling were stone, of course, but there was a colourful, thick rug covering much of the floor, and shelves and cupboards lined the walls. There were a few books, but otherwise the shelves were covered in an odd assortment of random stuff. There were weapons – old and rusty, for the most part – a few swords, some daggers, and a shield; there were a few small, ornately carved boxes; there was a small collection of utensils that looked to be genuine silver, if the tarnish was anything to go by, as well as a beautiful silver teapot; there was a plate, which I'd guess had been hand painted by an artist of renown, as the work was beautiful, if faded from age; there was a lute and a set of pan pipes; on one shelf, there was even what appeared to be a rolled up tapestry.

And then it occurred to me – they weren't a random collection of strange stuff, they were trophies. Maybe things taken from bodies, maybe things taken from homes as collateral or punishment. They were displayed here as a reminder to anyone who entered what would happen to their things if they got on the Carta's bad side.

Jarvia looked up from the desk she was sitting at, her eyes slowly travelling over my still form. I was finally able to stand straight – the ceiling in what I assumed was her office was almost normal height for a human house – and I stiffened as she examined me coldly. Finally her eyes turned to the man holding a knife to my side.

"Explain," she barked.

Tooth – a nickname, I assumed – jumped and stuttered. The doorman had waited outside; we were alone. "Found this one passed out drunk in my alley, lady Jarvia. Figgered you'd wanna see 'er – she says her friends got coin. I thought ... this would pay my debt, wunnit? She's worth more'n what I owe."