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- See also: Calling
I've never had a diary before. The Wardens kept me too busy. But now I'm dying, and there's no one to talk to. I'm alone with the music in my head growing louder. I always wondered how Wardens knew when they heard the Calling. I asked Lyam once after too many drinks. "You'll know," he said. And I did.
At first, it was just a whisper. A creak in the door hinge I could put off oiling. But soon, all I could hear was the music. It was there when I swung my staff and wiped the sweat from my brow. It lingered in Lyam's laughter and stalked my dreams. I can't explain the sound—the song—but I knew. It's a poison that grows in the mind, then consumes the body.
I came here to die. "In death, sacrifice." But I won't go quietly.
I cut through the darkspawn horde, expecting to find only more of them the deeper I traveled. But nothing has matched my expectations. "Deep Roads" brought to mind darkspawn, dwarven ruins, caverns, and death—but there's an entire underground world here. Just today, I came across plants with lyrium-streaked veins. I took a bath in a lake that held crisp, fresh water and cautious animals, large and small, that I'd never seen before. I can't be the first Warden to witness such wonders.
I was distracted by the curiosities yesterday. Was it yesterday? I let my guard down, got comfortable. Easy to do when you know death is inevitable. But then I stumbled across something horrible. I smelled it before I saw it: bodies. Hurlocks, genlocks, creatures I didn't recognize—hundreds of them, mutilated, tortured, and thrown into pits.
I ran. Didn't see the hole. Can't move my legs. They look like they should hurt, but I can't feel it. The music is too loud, the hunger too strong.
I can still crawl. I don't want to die like this.