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The darkspawn—the talking darkspawn, your brain reminds you, because you’re still not over that—guide you deeper and deeper into the catacombs. Three or four turns in, you start hoping someone is keeping track of the route you’re taking, because you don’t have the faintest idea where you are and something tells you that relying on a bunch of darkspawn to lead you safely through (and, more importantly, back out of) their lair is a bad idea.

Eventually, the tunnels open out and you find yourselves standing in the anteroom of a huge chamber illuminated by magelight. It’s a short drop down into the room itself, but nobody jumps because there are indeed mages there. Plenty of them, along with quite a few darkspawn in shackles and chains. What you don’t see, however, is Neve.

“I know some of these people,” says Mae. “And it’s not good news. The ones I know are magisters—part of a particularly… troubled… group that split off from the Venatori.”

“Split off?” Ashur asks.

“The Venatori weren’t bad enough,” is Mae’s grim explanation.

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