AN: You'll notice I deleted several of my older stories along with posting this new one. I posted this new one because I wanted to have a story for each of the current Dragon Age games. I deleted the old ones because I was looking back over them and I realized I really doubt I'll ever come back to them. Most of those were my first flailing attempts at stories which didn't have any real inspiration beyond those first few chapters, were adopted first chapters from other writers who have left the site, or similar situations. I don't plan to post any more new stories (apart from any that win in the Percy Jackson Poll currently up) until I complete more of the ones I already have started.

To adapt or die

Chapter 1

-Serada Aeducan-

Snarling, Serada paced back and forth in her cell, her arms and armor already taken away as she was left with only a basic shirt and breeches. Down the hall, she heard the door swing open and the familiar clanking steps of her second, Gorim as the loyal knight approached, "My Lady," he bowed his head, eyes brimming with shame and outrage, "I…I would have come sooner had they allowed it. How are you?"

"I'm furious!" she seethed, "Triam was a fucking bastard but he was still my brother, and a good field commander that Orzammar had need of. And Bhelen? That little shit stain is apparently more Orlesian than Dwarf. I look forward to coming before the Assembly and see his plot crumble around him."

Gorim winced and clutched at the bars to her cell, "My Lady, I have bad news. The assembly isn't going to call for you. Bhelen has already taken Triam's place in the assembly and introduced a motion to have you condemned immediately and it easily passed. He had fully over half of the assembly ready to vote on something that completely goes against tradition and justice! He must have been making deals and alliances for months…if not years."

"That rat faced bastard!" Serada scowled and kicked at the wall of her cell, "He's no dwarf! He's nothing but a masked faced Orlesian! He can't win anything through is own honor or merits, so he has to backstab, bribe, and betray!"

"Some of the other lords, Especially Harrowmont, are suspicious of Bhelen's instant rise to power. They're rallying but far too slowly. The assembly has already sentenced both of us." Gorim seemed to slump, his grip on the bars slacking.

"Both of us? Oh Gorim, not you too." Serada's anger faded slightly as she felt grief at her oldest companion and friend being punished as well, all for his loyalty to her.

"My knighthood is to be stripped, my name torn from the family records…but I will be allowed to make some sort of life for myself on the surface. Lord Harrowmont moved for a similar sort of exile for you but Bhelen's supporters overruled him. You are to be sealed in the deep roads…to fight darkspawn until you are overwhelmed and killed."

"That bastard." Serada seethed, a single tear falling for the loss of her family, "May the stone always reject him, and the ancestors never grant him their favor."

"There's more." Gorim leaned close, his voice growing softer so as to prevent any spies from listening in "Your father has suddenly taken ill. The official story is that he could not stand to lose two of his children at once. Many who voted against this betrayal of you and justice think poison is a far more likely culprit. Harrowmont is attending him in an attempt to restore his health and gave me permission to come speak with you, and to pass on some information. Duncan and the Grey Wardens are still in the Deep roads, in tunnels that connect to the ones you'll be sealed into! If you can survive long enough to find the Grey Wardens, you could likely escape with Duncan."

"That…that could work." Serada nodded, "The Grey Wardens take anyone from any walk of life or history so long as they can and will fight." She remembered reading about that in the Shaperate, "They mentioned a blight was going on topside. If I fight well enough in the blight, by the Ancestors if I manage to kill the Archdemon, then I may earn enough favor to come back and see Bhelen ruined for this."

"I asked to be sent with you, to fight at your side, but Bhelen's pet nobles would not hear of it. Safer as it may be on the surface, I would throw that all away to go down this dark path at your side." Gorim swore to her, giving what may be the last salute she ever receives from her stalwart companion.

"They're ready for you now." The cell keeper grunts, shoving Gorim aside as he unlocked her cell and drug her away. At the barrier doors, Lord Harrowmont was waiting.

"Having been found guilty of fratricide by the Assembly of Orzammar, you are hereby sentenced to exile and death. Your name is, from this point forward, stripped from the records. You are no longer a person, nor even a memory." The aged noble spoke somberly and Serada could see the regret in his eyes at having to do this, how the man wished it wasn't so. "You are to be cast into the deep roads, with only sword and shield, there to redeem your life by fighting the enemies of Orzammar until your death. Do you have anything to say until the sentence is carried out?"

"I am innocent." Serada rose up to her full height, "And Bhelen will pay for his crimes. May the ancestors never favor him, and foes prosper."

"I understand your anger. You should have been allowed to defend yourself and had I the power to stop this, I would. Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't do this, for your father's sake."

"I swear to you Lord Harrowmont." She looked her godfather dead in the eye, "I am innocent of what Bhelen has accused me of."

"I believe you." Harrowmont told her, undoing the shackles as he handed over a sword and shield "Believe me, I will spend the rest of my days making sure Bhelen does not get away with this." As he placed her weapons in her hands, Harrowmont leaned in closer and whispered "There is a chest a short way down the tunnel, hidden behind a fallen pillar. I placed armor in there for you, at your fathers request." Harrowmont turned to the jailer who was standing back aways "Open the door for the condemned to walk through. And Serada, may the stone catch you when you fall."

She kept her head held high as she entered the desolate Deep roads, the giant metal doors slamming shut behind her. The armor was found easily enough and fit well, even if it wasn't as grand as her great grandfather's armor, much the same could be said for her new sword and shield. The chest from Harrowmont even had a map to follow to find which tunnels the Grey Wardens were supposed to be in.

"Well, well, well, what have we here boys?" a crude voice asked as she passed through a tunnel, arriving at one of the many crossroads of the Deep Roads, a gang of casteless thugs, likely Carta, stepping from the shadows with leers on their faces, "It seems our good friend Bhelen was right that we'll find a pretty little thing all alone down here!" Face set in stone, Serada reading her weapons, knowing this fight might be a problem. She knew at her best she could likely best this group of Carta thugs. The issue was that she was kept in that cell for some time without food or water so she was weaker than she should be, and they were many. Another plot of Bhelen's no doubt, wanting to cut off any lose ends quickly just in case.

"Just try it nug fucker." Serada snarled, back against the wall, "You'll meet your ancestors for the attempt!"

"Get her!" the leader of the castles band shouted as they charged. Serada shouted back and raised her shield, but was forced to drop both it and her weapon as the ground began shaking, the stone cracking as the cave floor bellow their feet split, dropping her and the castles into a dark abyss. The wind whipped around her as she plummeted, the carta nugs screaming in fear as they fell with her. There was the frequent sound of flesh striking stone as one hit the walls or a jutting rock, their broken bodies now falling silently.

Then, just as suddenly as her falling began, it all came to a stop as she found herself floating, the castles continuing their plummet into oblivion. Around her were veins of pure lyrium pulsing brightly, giving off a purer stone call than any she had ever heard. With the song, despite its lack of words, she felt knowledge. She knew of the Titans, the first ancestors, and their role in shaping Thedas. How there was a war where many were slain, and the rest were forced into slumber. How a tear in the veil in Ferelden over the past two centuries had begun waking this Titan who has observed what has been going on. She was chosen now, an emissary of the Titans to stop the Darkspawn and begin saving the Dwarven people.

A branch of lyrium extended and touched her hand as energy rushed into her, granting her the ancient blessings that the Titans had once bestowed upon her people, the 'magic' of dwarves. Eyes blazing with determination, Serada shaped the earth beneath her feet and shot forward, she still had to find the Grey Wardens.