I froze in my crack, wondering what anyone would in my position. Friend or Foe? Even if they were one of the few groups who ventured down here that were not immediately hostile did not mean they would not try to kill me. That being said, they would pass by the pillar I was staying in so I could stay hidden and see who it was. I tensed, I carefully moved the helmet with the egg deeper into the crack. Making sure it had a solid spot, I slowly pulled my knife just in case. I really missed my gun but there was nothing to be done about that at the moment. I waited with baited breath as the marching troop drew closer. My heart was pounding like no tomorrow, the thrumming sound of blood rushing through my veins making me even tenser than I already was.

Stomp, stomp, stomp. The many boots came every closer, whoever they were they made no sound other than the marching. This actually relaxed me somewhat, I was positive that the spawn did not march with such disciplined silence. Stomp, stomp, stomp. The harmonious sounds of marching was drawing closer, just behind my pillar, next to my pillar but just out of sight. Then I released my breath as I saw who it was, a grin decorating my face. The Legion of the Dead, finally some luck. I watched them walk past with their black armour and helmets that covered their face, their armour always had been one of my favourites in the game. It was badass, seeing an army of them coming at you would make anyone nervous. Probably even the spawn. Their eyes glinting behind their visors, I watched as rank upon rank of dwarven warriors passed my position. Marching forward towards their eternal foe, fearless, determined. I would be lying if I said I wasn't fanboying a little.

I cleared my throat and the entire procession froze, weapons were drawn. In a sudden flurry of activity, the dwarves got in position, an outer ring of heavily armoured and armed warriors. Surrounding an inner ring of just as heavily armoured arbalists, their heavy crossbows pointing in all directions. I peeked out from my pillar.

“Sorry about that! I thought that would be better than suddenly dropping down!” The dwarven helmets turned to face me as one. One dwarf took off his helmet, I almost squealed as I recognized his face. Kardol the Legionnaire, a true badass that in the game held a bridge against a horde of darkspawn with just four other legionnaires.

“It is strange to see one of your kind in the Deeproads human. Who are you and why are you here.”

I swung out of the crack and smoothly climbed my way down, the dwarf raised an eyebrow at my bloodstained outfit. Obviously covered in tainted blood from the spawn. A few splashes of regular coloured blood mixed with the rest it told quite a story of battle to those who took the effort to look.

Kardol took the effort, he stroked his thick bronze beard. “You seem to have had a run in with the spawn stranger. A fighter of the darkspawn is marked, those of us who fight them daily have learned to recognize that mark. We cannot offer you safety, nor can we bring you back to Orzammar. We have a mission and we cannot delay it.”

I grinned and shrugged, “That's fine, I'll just come with you!”

The dwarf blinked, “You wish to come deeper with us into the Deeproads? There is a high chance that we will not return from our mission alive. In fact we are almost certain that we will die in the attempt.”

I shrugged again, “Matters not to me, me and mine came down here to die. Three of us have found death, one of my group is missing and might be wandering around. There are worse fates than dying alongside those of the Legion as they fight the spawn. I have killed many, but I think I have a few more in me” I grinned at the dwarven warrior as he scratched his beard.

“Have it your way human, grab your gear. We can always use more bodies to throw at the spawn.”

I nodded and climbed back up the pillar to grab my helmet. When I climbed back down he raised an eyebrow. “Is that all the equipment you have brought?”

“All that has not been destroyed during the fights with the darkspawn.” I joined Kardol at the end of the procession as the dwarves continued marching forward. I easily kept pace with them, dwarves had an immense amount of stamina. They were still short however so keeping pace became easier.

“Your armour was broken? Or damaged so badly you couldn't keep wearing it?” Kardol asked.

Another dwarf turned around and asked, the voice slightly higher pitched marking her as female. “That and you only got a knife, I have heard about humans. Are they all as crazy as you?”

The dwarf next to her smacked her head. “Excuse my sister human, she never did have any manners.”

I laughed, “It's quite alright, I can assure you that I am considered insane even among my own kind and my armour wasn't broken or damaged. What you see me wearing IS my armour.”

“Those thin pieces of cloth?” The female dwarf gestured at my outfit, “How are they any good as armour?”

I tapped my kevlar. “This chest piece here is able to stop a bolt from your crossbow. It'll give me a big ass bruise but I'll survive.”

She took off her helmet, short cropped dark brown hair accentuated by her hazel eyes. She took a closer look at my armour and poked and pulled at the material. “It does look sturdier than I thought it was, it seems quite thick. I doubt it could stop an arrow though.”

I grinned at her cynicism, “This baby right here weighs ten kilos. I said tapping the thing.” Her eyes widened as she looked over my best. I could tell how curious she was, I patted her on the back. “Once we make camp I'll let you have a closer look.”

She grinned at me, “I would like that, it is interesting. I have never seen craftsmanship quite like it. I wonder what materials it uses.”

“It's made from a material called kevlar, to be honest I am not quite sure how it's made. I use it but I didn't make it.”

She nodded then glanced back at me, “I'm Korma by the way, completely forgot to introduce my self, what with your sudden appearance strange outfit and the fact that you are the first human I have ever met.”

I smiled at the late introduction. “I'm Zoa, a pleasure to meet you.”

She grabbed the dwarf who had smacked her by the collar and dragged him close, removing his helmet. “This stoic piece of dwarven meat over here is my brother Kormik!” The dwarf had short black hair and a magnificent beard to accompany it. Korma tapped another dwarf and motioned to his helmet, he removed it.

“And this lovely dwarf over here who keeps muttering about ancestors knows what is my other brother Thorik.”

This had to be one of the strangest looking dwarves I had ever seen. The dwarf had the sides of his head shaven, with a bar at the top of the sides of his head with dwarven runes in them. Below the bar of runes, there were a bunch of other tattoos that I couldn't make out. His hair was bunched back in a mass of honest to god dreadlocks, tied in a semi-ponytail. He had a course thick beard just as black as his hair, bronze carved tubes holding his beard together in strands. He had big bushy eyebrows to match the rest of his hair.

“What are you looking at, never seen a dwarf before??” Thorik asked.

“Actually you ARE the first dwarves I've met.” I answered honestly.

“Well that bloody explains why you look like you want to get me out of my armour!” The dwarf answered with a grin. A viking looking dwarf. I might be in love.

I grinned from ear to ear, “Well I have to admit, you are by far the sexiest dwarf I've seen so far, the things I'd do to that beard!”

“Owh I'm your type am I?

“Normally no, but for you sir dwarf I would be willing to make an exception” I followed up my statement with an exaggerated wink.

Korma was making fake retching sounds and Kormik's face was blank from any and all emotions.

Thorik grinned at their reactions and threw me a wink. We both knew we were messing around, I for one was one-hundred percent straight. I was confident enough in my sexuality to act overly gay for shits and giggles. Whenever my friends would be like what's got into you!? I would answer with its Tuesday! They would stare at me incredulously and I would wink and walk off, good times good times. Once in a while you would meet someone who had the same idiotic tendencies, that was always fun. Here I was, in another perhaps fake world, talking to another race, doing gay flirtation tom-foolery. What a time to be alive.

I got to know more about the siblings, Thorik had a tendency for trouble and had managed to blow up part of one of the upper cast's houses. He was sentenced to an extremely long amount of time in jail, instead, he opted to serve in the Legion of the Dead. His siblings being the close-knit group that they were had decided to enroll alongside him. They had lived as castless, the dregs of society for most of their life, their mother had died young, they didn't even know who their father was supposed to be. They even speculated that they each had a different father, things like that happened when your mom rolled in the blankets for a living. Yet the three siblings got along famously, they got into a fight with the local carta. Yet managed to stand their ground, they had learned how to fight and survived doing it. Their youth reminded me of mine.

Korma was a crack-shot with her crossbow, Kormik wielded a shield and an ax while Thorik wielded an axe and a hammer but mostly played around with explosives. Explosives that he had experimented long enough with that the legion started using them as weapons. Kardol even through in a word edge-wise telling us how much he loved the sight of a darkspawn being blown to pieces. The face of all of us lit up and we agreed, watching one of those monstrous things explode into bits was a great deal of fun.

I got along well with the siblings, Korma had a playfull personality and was a big fan of teasing. Kormik was the oldest of the three and stoicly watched over his younger siblings. He spent a lot of his time shaking his head at his younger siblings antics. He watched over them like a father would. Thorik was the icing on the cake he was insane in all the best ways, he had a habit of working with explosions that more often than not blew up in his face. He had made a few inventions that had helped the legion bring the fight to the darkspawn. Which brought me to our current mission they were on a mission to reclaim Bownammar, the original fortress of the Legion. It was deep in darkspawn territory, the dwarves, however, had decided that reclaiming their home of old was worth the sacrifice and effort. The group I was in was merely the first, we were sent to clear the way.

The warband I was in was the best the Legion had to offer, behind us about five kilometers were mostly fresh recruits. Then came the supplies and the civilians who had volunteered for the mission. Then came more fresh recruits and the last group was the Commanders unit. With units that had been in the legion the longest. The best of the best. Having civilian volunteers was something of a new development for the Legion. They told me the story proudly, the Grey Warden, who had stopped the blight that had plagued the lands above a mere two years ago, had ventured into the deeproads. A Grey Warden traveling into the deeproads was nothing new, but this warden had been special. He had a place in the heart of the Legion, he had given them a House. The Warden had found records that confirmed that the Legion had been given a house of their own.

This had made a huge difference, no longer was the Legion castless. No longer did they not have anything other than a glorious death waiting for them. They were a noble house, a strong one. The Legion had opted to keep doing their duty, they fought darkspawn and they fought them well. There was one thing they truly wanted, a place to call home. The ancient ancestral fortress that awaited for them deep in the down the spawn infested tunnels. They would reclaim their glory of old, Bhelen Auducan King of the dwarves had agreed with them. No longer would he let the dwarves live in fear of the spawn. No longer would he let the twisted beings inhabit the proud dwarven thaigs. The blight had just finished, meaning the deeproads were as calm and quiet as they were ever going to be. This was the time for the dwarves to make their moves, and move they did. They had mobilized in an effort unseen before. The entire Legion was on the march, hundreds of soldiers from Orzammar had joined their effort.

I was getting excited, I had first chosen Harrowmont as the successor to the throne. Behlen had killed his older brother and framed his remaining brother for the murder. So he could inherit the throne. Ambitious, greedy, cold and cruel. These words described Behlen, yet there was one reason I chose him in all playthroughs after the first one. He was a better king, he united the dwarves. Opened them up to outsiders, improved trading. He made the dwarven kingdom strong, despite his methods to reach the thrown he was a breath of fresh air. He was not stuck in the old ways, he did not see those of lower born casts as useless. Proven by the very fact that he had sent his own soldiers to help the Legion in their efforts of reclaiming their home. Kindness would not save the world, sometimes calculated cruelty was needed.

It still rubbed me the wrong way, I knew that I was an optimistic idealist. I put great effort into being a 'good' person. I had decided to be one so I did whatever I could to stay one. Help people at the cost of yourself, make choices that align with the moral compass I set for myself. This was a case of the good of the many over the good of the few. I had chosen the many, I wondered if my own tastes had affected the game in some way. I had played as the Warden, I had made Behlen king. I had given the Legion the path to a greater future. I wondered what the warden in this world had been like. I wondered if that meant his companions were still wandering around somewhere. An interesting thought.

We marched onwards through the darkspawn tunnels, to my surprise we did not run into anything hostile. It was possible that they had heard us approach and had retreated to get reinforcements to attack is in larger numbers later on. The roads were supposed to be quiet, a time of stillness after a blight. The blight was a time where an Archdemon was born, a Soul of an old god that inhabited one of the twisted bodies of the spawn. This Archdemon would lead the darkspawn towards the surface in huge numbers to attack, destroy and defile anything in their path. The Grey Wardens were a group that had been created to fight off these blights, an Archdemon could only be permanently killed by one of them. They would absorb the soul of the old god and die, keeping the soul from inhabiting another body. In the game I most often went with the romantic option of Morrigan, a witch from the wilds. I would impregnate her and she would absorb the soul of the old god into the child, I still did not know what the results of that choice would be.

We were approaching the Thaig which was our campsite, the scouts that had been sent ahead told us there was a small group of perhaps two hundred darkspawn who had made their own camp in the thaig. I wasn't worried in the least, our warband consisted of nearly five-hundred of the Legion's best. If we had more than double the amount of darkspawn they would be destroyed, I would be surprised if we lost anyone. I honestly thought I should be a scout myself, Kardol had decided against it. His scouts were much more familiar with the deeproads than I was there was a good chance I would get lost. I had to give him that one, I had gotten lost down here already after all. We marched towards the taig, a row of shield-bearing warriors three ranks thick in the front. The arbalists behind them, and the rest of the warriors covering the flanks and rear. We made our way towards the spawn camp, their look-outs noticed us and howled.

The spawn gathered together in a flurry, their ranks snarling at us. With a howl from an alpha the foolish spawn charged our ranks. The front ranks of warriors kneeled, giving the arbalists room to fire. The first row of arbalists pulled the triggers and released their bolts, the heavy metal projectiles whistling through the air until they impacted the darkspawn. Violently tearing through the ranks, as soon as the first volley had been fired the arbalists kneeled to reload their weapons. The row behind them fired as soon as they kneeled, another hail of bolts destroying the darkspawn ranks. The process continued, within a minute the darkspawn had been utterly annihilated. I whistled in appreciation. Now that was effective, the Legion lived up to their legend. I walked over to Korma, I recognized the splash of white on her pauldron. I could pick her out of the crowd even with her helmet on.

“Those crossbows of yours are effective.”

Korma took off her helmet and grinned, “We altered them from the ones you humans used, ours are heavier but have a great deal more punching power. This baby right here will punch through the metal armour of an ogre.” She tapped her crossbow, showing off the massive thing with pride.

“I didn't see you using any explosions this time around, do you use them often?”

Korma shook her head, swung her crossbow over her back and folded her arms. “We rarely use explosions, there are few targets down here that are worthy of the expense. Alpha Ogre's , ancient emissaries. That's what we save them for, or if we have to blow our way through a thick wall or something of the sort.”

Thorik ran over, “I heard someone talking about explosives! Do I get to blow anythin up?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Not today I'm afraid!”