This place is cursed. For ten years, Paragon Garen has been sending Legionnaires to search out our lost heir. Now I know what's become of them.
There's no way out. This is no normal part of the Deep Roads. There's lyrium worked into the walls, into the Stone itself, some kind of human magic. From the outside, it looks like just another tunnel, but walk in and it's a prison. There is no way past the barriers, no way forward, no way back. But the trap remains open to every beast, darkspawn, and dwarf that wanders in.
My brothers in the Legion have died, and I have done my best to lay their spirits to rest in the Stone. I am the last. There will be no one to do the same for me, or for Tethras, if he too was snared by this noose. For you, my prince, I wish you the Stone's blessing. Atrast tunsha. Totarnia amgetol tavash aeduc.
May someone recite the ritual words over your bones and return your spirit to the Stone.
—From the journal of Bashath Garen, Legion of the Dead