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From the Ashes: Sparks of Defeat (ch. 22)
🕑 Added 2023-01-20 15:50:53 +0000 UTC“Thank you,” Elissa told me after the meeting was done and the sky was darkening once again. The camp was in a tizzy with preparing the finishing touches for the battle to become. From pits to barricades, all to blunten the darkspawns’ charge. I made my own arrangements -- speaking to the Rabbits with the orders to fuck off to Lothering as fast as possible the moment the battle looked like it was going to turn against us, giving the kennel master the flower I had found, and learning what I could about the Grey Wardens.
Duncan wasn’t happy with me, but he also wasn’t surprised. Alistair was upset that he wasn’t participating in the battle, even if he was entrusted with the treaties -- which, apparently, were the original treaties that bound the Circles, Dwarves, and Dalish to fighting the Blight and they had just been… left at the ass end of the world for some reason. All that was really left for me to do was watch the horde that gathered on the horizon swell in size as the hammer part of the army got into position.
I didn’t expect the thank you. I honestly expected Elissa Cousland to weasel out of her end of the bargain, as nobles did.
“You can thank Theron when he wakes up. His timing was perfect,” I remarked, my tone flippant as I leaned on the edge of the bridge between Ostagar and the tower. The fortress itself was in poor repair. I think if we used it for its intended purpose, we’d probably be worse off.
“I shall,” Elissa swore, sounding like she meant it. “I did a little bit of asking about you. And the Rabbits. No one had kind things to say,” she remarked, standing next to me.
“We’re not known for our kindness, that’s for sure,” I returned, glancing at her. She was wearing fine armor of a metal I didn’t recognize off-hand. A dull gray color. She cut an impressive figure in it, I suppose. Especially when the armor matched her steel-gray eyes. “More our viciousness and cruelty.”
Elissa nodded, “Good. It is that I wish to make use of,” she informed and I wasn’t shocked. “How much would it cost me for you to turn your organization against Howe? In any way possible? Murdering his messengers, his knights, his family.” She hissed, hate burning in her eyes, looking right through me and seeing him.
Maybe I didn’t need to become a Grey Warden after all. Seemed like I was making connections in high places already, “You know, I've been trying to set up a chapter in Highever for the past year. I failed because the elves there were loyal to your family. Was a right pain in my arse. For that,” I told her, looking at her and I was surprised to see that she was visibly fighting off emotion, “Just let my people do business through your Teyrndom and we’ll call it good.”
A vague favor, but one that had near-infinite value. Because, in the end…
I was going to betray her.
I could see it in her eyes. She heard my story and saw a kindred spirit in me -- one that she thought had seen his vengeance through. She was turning to me because she knew that I would understand, and I did. I was also taking advantage of that fact. Because, in the end, kindred spirit or not, she was the nobility of Ferelden and, one way or the other…
The elves would have a home.
“Will you see it through should I fall in the battle?” She asked, catching my attention. She really wanted Howe dead. Shouldn’t be any issue. Not when I could turn invisible and knew where he rested his head. “I am positioned in the hammer. With the King.”
“And the Grey Wardens,” I voiced, sounding amused. “Bet that’s awkward,” I remarked. I was more or less right about the order of events -- Elissa went to Cailan with evidence that her brother was likely dead, as suddenly she became the last Cousland. Cailan then turned to Duncan, explained that a noble family was about to be wiped out, and Duncan had the sense to rescind the conscription.
Elissa sighed, “Very. But, with any luck, we’ll be too busy killing darkspawn to make smalltalk.” She said, her gaze pleading as she meant mine.
I gave her a smirk, “I was going to kill Rendon Howe anyway,” I told her, my tone blunt. Her eyes widened at my audacity. “Buissness related reasons, but since you asked so nicely, I’ll make it personal. He’ll die screaming, at your hands or mine.” I was curious what her reaction would be. I was faintly surprised to see that it was a small laugh complimented by a hungry smile.
“Good,” she hissed the word, hate evident in her voice. “I wish you luck in the coming battles, Azoth,” she told me, giving a thankful nod before she was called to join up with the gathering forces. I stepped away from the bridge, watching her go, feeling a little conflicted about the betrayal that would come at some point. In a way, I almost wished that she would die in the battle. It would be easier that way.
I joined up with Alistair to find him checking up on Theron. The Dalish elf was still asleep, his breathing deep and even. He had been out for about a day at this point. If he wasn’t up by tomorrow, then he was gone. That too, I felt conflicted about. I couldn’t stand the Dalish, and I thought that Theron was a right ponce, but that didn’t mean I wanted him dead.
“It’s about time,” I told Alistair, earning a nod from him along with a sigh. He straightened up, patting Theron on the shoulder before turning around. "If it helps, we could end up joining the battle after we light the beacon."
It did help, apparently. "Right. Let's hurry it up then," Alistair decided as we took our positions -- a runner would find us when the king instructed for the signal to be lit. We would go up the tower, light the beacon and if for some unexplainable reason that we couldn't, Uldred would give the signal. It wasn't like I didn't get why Alistair was upset -- we were being used as messengers. Not exactly covering ourselves with glory, but I rather liked not being up close and personal with the darkspawn.
In the meantime, we watched as more and more darkspawn gathered as the sky darkened. They began to emerge from the treeline, the shadows kept at bay with a sea of torches. The king's army had formed up behind their defenses and off in the distance, I saw traces of the bulk of the army. Still… I had no idea what a crowd of fifteen thousand would look like. It was a little early to tell… but it certainly seemed like it was a bit bigger than what I pictured it being.
More so than ever when they charged. With monstrous yells and unholy screeches, the darkspawn began to charge across the field. I felt the vibrations under my foot, a slight tremor that came with thousands of charging forward. It was an awe-inspiring sight, I reflected, and one that made fear pool in my gut because there just didn't seem to be an end to them as they streamed out of the forest.
"I think," I started, urging Alistair along, "we should get a head start on lighting that beacon." There were so many of them. So many. Then that pool of fear in my gut shifted to what could only be described as terror when I watched as the anvil -- the part of the army that was supposed to stay still, dig in, and wait for the charge of the bulk of the army… began to charge forward after releasing a wave of war hounds with the bloody king at the tip of the charge.
"We need to go," I decided, shoving Alistair. "Now," I added, turning to the bridge and I started running. I didn't even check to see if Alistair was behind me. The anvil charged. They left their fortifications and they charged. Did the plan change because we were facing more darkspawn than expected? I didn't know. I wasn't a tactician. Still, charging into an army that you held fewer numbers than seemed like a piss poor idea.
The archers were releasing volley after volley after volley, raining arrows upon the darkspawn horde, felling them while mages unleashed fireballs upon the thickest parts of the horde. The darkspawn weren’t idle, their own archers that were almost haphazardly thrown into the horde were returning fire, along with the darkspawn emissaries. As I sprinted across the bridge, running between the ranks of archers lined up, I caught a glimpse of something bright. Looking up, the action saved me as a flame-covered rock slammed into the archer line, tearing through men and women and reducing them to smears.
My stomach clenched at the sight but Alistair shoved me forward, running through the mess and blood splashed up on my boots. There were sounds of panic from the archers and sergeants barking orders for the archers to keep firing. Even as another flame-covered stone smashed into the bridge, making it shudder as I took a moment to admire the durability of ancient Tevinter architecture.
The darkspawn had mages and trebuchets. The former, I understood, but the latter? That came as a shock.
Just not quite as much as it was when we reached the other end of the bridge to find that soldiers were fighting against darkspawn. Alistair and I cleared the bridge, the sounds of combat below and the screeching horde of darkspawn deafening the soldiers on the bridge to the battle being waged next to them. Soldiers formed up, battling against darkspawn hurlocks and genlocks, hacking and slashing but for every soldier, there were two darkspawn.
What they didn’t have was a mage, I saw, a human mage washing fire over a dozen hurlocks that came pouring out of the Tower of Ishal.
Tactician I may not be, but from a cursory glance, I could tell we were rightly fucked.
I made a split-second decision. One that I knew would have consequences, but fear put its thumb on the scales. I had learned much during the last year -- part of that was due to the memories of Gaxkang settling, but it was more due to the training dummies that I had in my basement. My illusions were greater than ever, but that wasn’t all that I learned.
“Push them back!” I shouted out, pulling up from the earth to cast Stone Fist, launching the rock at a hurlock that must have crushed every rib that they had. If Alistair was put out by the display of magic, then he didn’t show it in favor of throwing himself at the darkspawn, hacking them to pieces with a ferocity that I had never seen in him before. His sword moved in a blur, killing a genlock and then a hurlock, and then another genlock in the same time it took another warrior to kill one darkspawn.
Picking a random darkspawn, I cast Enemies Abound upon them, hoping that they would turn on each other, but the taint connected them. The spell was a failure on darkspawn, I realized, switching tactics as I pressed into the fray, Keening Blade and Fang lashing out to carve into darkspawn flesh. For the first time in battle, I cast Blur upon myself, making my outline blurry, almost as if I was being viewed through glassy eyes to make it far more difficult to actually hit me.
At the same moment, I stomped my foot upon the ground, the fade singing and dancing as I pulled it into the world to cast Entangle. Veins and ropes of grass grew as they feasted upon the magic I gave them, wrapping their tendrils around the darkspawn and tripping them up. Some managed to rip themselves free, others fell flat on their faces, but it distracted them enough that the battle was tipped in our favor and we carved through the darkspawn.
“Boss! Boss!” I heard, a wide eyed Rabbit running up to me, his face splattered with darkspawn blood. My stomach clenched at the sight. He was dead, I realized. He just didn’t know it yet. “The tower has been overrun! Darkspawn came up from the cellar, a whole lot of them!”
Darkspawn dig. Thats what they do when they weren’t being led by an Archdemon. We completely underestimated them, I realized. The mindless charging into the nearest mass of humans? No strategy or thought behind their attacks? The Archdemon was using my own bloody trick against me -- keeping a low profile until it was time to strike.
“Go find Loghain. Tell him that. And find a runner to Uldred to give the signal because we’re going to be late,” I ordered the Rabbit, who nodded. And, in a much lower voice, I added, “And get the rest of the Rabbits to Lothering.” The elf paused for a moment before jerking his head in a nod before taking off.
“You’re a mage?” Alistair questioned as we approached the tower, hearing the darkspawn shrieks coming from within. It sounded like absolute chaos.
“Don’t worry about it,” I told him, dismissing the topic out of hand because this really wasn’t the time. My mind was hyperfocused on the task at hand, knowing that we were completely on the back foot. I didn’t need to be a master tactician to know that we were being flanked and that was a bad thing. The darkspawn were in the tower, sounding like they were cleaning it out, but when they started to pour out of it, then they would overrun the archers. They would flank behind the charging anvil, surround them, and the battle would be lost.
We needed to light the beacon as fast as we could. Fighting through a horde of darkspawn wasn’t going to help us in that regard. Meaning we shouldn’t fight them.
“We’re going to sneak up to the top floor,” I decided, reaching out to Alistair and placing a hand on his shoulder. I cast Invisibility along with Pass Without a Trace upon both of us, making us wink out of sight, much to the alarm of a handful of people that had been watching.
I couldn’t see Alistair, but I did hear him yelp in surprise. “Oh, is this how you kept pulling that disappearing act? By actually disappearing? I’m very worried about you being a mage now,” Alistair said, his tone light but it turned grim as we made our way up the steps.
“You should be, now be quiet. The spell will deal with ambient noise, but you’ll give yourself away if you speak,” I told Alistair, leading the way into the Tower of Ishal to find that it had been the sight of butchery. Darkspawn were within the tower, ripping apart whatever soldiers and servants that they found within. There were signs of a battle, and a barricade going up, but the darkspawn had completely overrun it.
I started to venture towards the staircase, determined to go straight up to the top of the tower. So used to being invisible and completely undetectable, I nearly tripped over my own two feet when a darkspawn genlock that was feasting upon the limb of a warrior suddenly looked up and behind him, directly in our direction. The genlock’s face was twisted and smeared with blood, his beady black eyes squinting at us.
The taint, I realized. The taint that connected us to the darkspawn. Shite. Becoming a Grey Warden, it seemed, was a shite idea.
The genlock got up, dropping the limb as I powerwalked towards the staircase, hoping that the dumb monster would think it to be a trick of the light, but he started waving his arm back and forth, clearly expecting to find something. I reached the stairs just as the genlock bumped into something invisible -- Alistair -- and before it could even cry out, Alistair lashed out with his blade and beheaded the creature.
“They can sense us,” Alistair said, his invisible sword outlined in black. I swallowed a curse as more darkspawn left the command room, knowing something was here, but they couldn’t see us beyond the taint that we shared.
“Fuck,” I cursed, the invisibility dropping. Alistair was revealed for but a moment before I got an idea. If invisibility wouldn’t work, then I tried Disguise Self, giving me the appearance of a darkspawn while I recast Invisibility on Alistair. “Follow me and don’t touch anything,” I said, making my way up the stairs. The sounds were hellish, I decided, making my way up the tower. There were screeches of the darkspawn, and people screaming as they were butchered.
The darkspawn looked in my direction when a good dozen of them started making their way down the stairs. A genlock hissed at me, and I just kept walking up, hoping that it wasn’t trying to communicate with me. I had no clue what it wanted, but when I didn’t hiss back, it seemed offended and suspicious.
Making another split-second decision, I cast Knock as far away as I could and the loud banging that rang out through the halls was loud. The darkspawn instantly lost interest in us as every creature within three hundred feet heard the noise and were investigating, giving Alistair and me the chance to move on with no issue.
At least until we reached the top floor.
The door was already open, letting Alistair and I hear the sounds of meat tearing accompanied by the crunching of bone. The labored breathing clued the both of us in what we were about to see when we entered the rookery, the caged busted open, ravens dead on the ground or they managed to escape. There were signs that the door had been barricaded shut, but that didn’t matter to the ogre that had forced its way through.
It was my first time seeing one up close. They were a lot bigger up close. The ogre clutched a fully armored knight in its hands, chewing through the armor to take bites out of the knight. Given that he was up here instead of on the field, I think he might have been a coward, but that didn't matter now that he was dead. The ogre stood up, rising to its full height of twelve feet tall, its skin dark and leathery with a long and warped set of horns adorned upon its head.
The creature turned around, taking a deep breath then bellowed at us with such force I felt it rattle my bones. That, I decided, was my cue to drop Disguise Self and Alistair's Invisibility. Magic danced on my fingers, a spark emerging that ignited into a bonfire upon the stack of wood that had been laid out to be the signal fire. At the same moment, the ogre threw the corpse at me, forcing me to dive out of the way.
Alistair charged forward, completely unafraid while I rolled to my feet. Looking to my side, I saw that darkspawn were coming up the staircase, the taint sharing where we were with the rest of the darkspawn that had been looking for us. Casting Mage Hand, I slammed the door shut before I used it again to barricade the door. Everything slid in place, the door bucking when the darkspawn began to hack at it, but it remained firm enough.
Turning my attention back to the fight, I looked over just in time to see Alistair slashing at the ogre’s fingers, taking the tips off.
Breathing in sharply, I darted forward, casting my spells. Blur was stacked with Mirror Image, making another four copies of me circling around my body, each one appearing glassy. The ogre roared at me in confusion, a massive hand lunging out to attack me, but his hand struck one of the mirror images. In terms of offensive spells, I didn’t have a lot. I wasn’t a powerhouse by any stretch of the imagination. However, my set of spells were uniquely suited to making sure that I would never, ever, be in a fair fight.
Alistair hacked at the ogre’s ankle, digging his sword into the tendon at the back, and when it snapped, the sound was louder than the Knock I cast earlier. The leg collapsed underneath the ogre, the creature bellowing in pain as its fingers clawed at the stone under it. It took a swipe at Alistair and my stomach clenched when he took a glancing blow that sent him flying through the air and on a crash course with the wall. He struck it with a grunt, and landed in a heap near the fire.
The ogre turned to me, lunging forward, but I was already reacting. It struck another mirror image, slamming a hand down on it like I were a nail. I looked at the ogre, my lips thin as I cast Phantasmal Force, the rapid fire spells starting to wear on me, and made the ogre look to the side when I cast the illusion that Alistair was charging at the side.
I took the chance to leap onto the monster's thick arm, sprinting up and burying the Keening Blade into its eye when it looked back at me. The ogre bellowed, screeching in agony before it started to grasp at me with his hand. In response, I cast Create Bonfire, scorching the creature’s brain and face as I ripped the blade free and threw myself back to avoid the massive hand that would have crushed me in its grip.
The ogre fell back, landing heavily, while I did the same. I hardly felt it though, quickly rolling to my feet, ready to continue. However, the ogre didn’t get up.
“Holy shite,” I breathed, running over to Alistair, hardly believing that I managed to kill something so big. Alistair was unconcious, bleeding from the head, but he was breathing. Pressing a hand onto him, I channeled my magic into healing him. Heal was a bit of a mixed bag on what it worked best on. Stuff like burns or infection, it didn’t do that great of a job with, but mending bones and healing cuts was where it did its best work.
I felt the mana leaving my body, leaving me feeling oddly hollow in a way that I wasn’t quite used to. It was a rare thing for me to cast so many spells so close together on top of maintaining several at once. I wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and go back to sleep, but the door was still thumping as darkspawn tried to get in. Meaning that we were trapped on the top of the tower.
Alistair didn’t wake up after I was done healing him as much as I could. I stumbled to a window to look out at the battle and my stomach dropped with what I saw.
“Fifteen thousand my arse,” I breathed, blood draining from my face as I gazed out upon the darkspawn horde. From this high up, I just saw a sea of torches -- thousands of them. I didn’t know how many there were, but it had to be tens of thousands. Maybe twenty. Maybe thirty. I didn’t know. What I did know was that the anvil was being savaged and overrun and despite the signal going out, I saw no sign of the bulk of the army moving.
I rested a hand on the window ledge, shaking my head. “Don’t do it,” I uttered, willing the words to reach Loghain. We had been completely outplayed by the darkspawn. The Archdemon lured us into a false sense of security, offering up a few victories, while it gathered its strength in the deep roads and built a tunnel into the heart of the fortress to flank and surround us. We had been outplayed and we were outnumbered. “Cut your losses and don’t do it,” I uttered, the beacon lit and burning.
The army began to move as if they heard me, and to my mixture of relief and horror, I saw the bulk of the army wasn’t coming down the hill. They were marching away from the battle, leaving thousands to die. Along with the King. And me and Alistair. And Theron, who managed to sleep through all of this shite.
“Fuck,” I cursed, knowing that it was the smart move, but it was a damn cold one that left me in a bad spot. I looked back at the door, seeing that it was bulging as the darkspawn were forcing their way through, and it wouldn’t be long before they did. My gaze went to the unconscious Alistiar, my mouth dry.
I didn’t know what to do, I realized. A feeling that I wasn’t used to any longer. Not after two years of conviction behind every action that I took that served as a step to take me closer to some goal. Which was all fine and good, but I was trapped at the top of a tall tower, and the army just abandoned us.
And, almost as if summoned, I caught a glimpse of something flying through the air. My stomach clenched when I saw it. A dragon. I stumbled back from the window when I saw that it was coming straight for us, but it wasn’t quite enough when the wall was busted in, sending chunks of stone flying inward. They smashed into the far wall, crushing the barricade around the door, but acted as one themselves..
I skidded across the floor, bits of rock bouncing off of me, before I rolled to my feet, weapons at the ready.
The dragon looked to me -- large horns that swept back, a large gaping maw filled with sharp teeth that had flames licking at them, and claws large enough to grab hold of the ogre with little difficulty. It was covered in amber red scales that darkened into black in some places, intlelgent blue eyes turning to me.
It wasn’t the Archdemon, I realized. It was just a random fucking dragon that decided to show up.
Or, perhaps not so random.
“You did well,” the dragon spoke as a whisper in my ear, making me stiffen when I recognized the voice. “Come with me and we shall escape from this place,” The dragon uttered, speaking in the old woman’s voice. As she spoke, a massive clawed hand grabbed hold of Alistiar and I started to step forward.
Theron. Theron was still in the camp. Asleep.
The thought stopped me cold, making the dragon look at me with curiosity. I wanted to throw myself at the dragon, let it hold me, so we could fuck right off and away from this deathtrap, but my feet wouldn’t move. “I can’t,” I told the old woman, frustrated beyond words could convey. Theron had better wake up because I was going to kick the shite right out of him for this. “I can’t leave Theron behind to die. And we don’t have those treaties,” I told her, conviction hardening in my heart.
Theron was a prick, but I wasn’t enough of one to leave him to be savaged in his sleep. Unfortunately. I wasn’t happy about it.
The woman laughed at that, a deep and heartily sound. “A fool's endeavor, but I shall await your arrival all the same,” the old woman said before she leaned back and threw herself off of the tower with enough force I thought it was going to topple over. I watched in dull amazement as the dragon flew away, nearly vanishing in the night sky with Alistair in a claw. That was… I had damn good reason to be afraid of her, but the old woman seemed like she was trying to help in her own way.
The banging resumed on the door and I snapped back to reality, realizing that I was still trapped up here and the only difference was that I was here alone. However, alone, I could manage.
My gaze darted to the birdfeed for the ravens that had been kept up here, finding entire bags of it. Running over, I grabbed one and forced the magic to dance to my will despite the increasingly hollow sensation that grew in my gut. Thornwhip was a simple spell, really. You took a seed, forced it to grow into a thorny vine, and used it as a whip. They died shortly after, but that didn’t matter.
I forced the vines to grew, feeding them my magic to sustain their nourishment, and looped one end around the rubble that the old woman had made. Wrapping the other end around my arm a few times, the torns poking through the cloth of my armor, I looked down the tower and realized just how high up I was. Swallowing thickly, I sparred one last glance at the door, seeing it splinter as the darkspawn were forcing their way through.
With no other option, I threw myself off the tower and used the vines to act as a rope to save me from falling to my death. The vines grew longer and longer, taking me down at a rapid pace but not one that would leave me a stain on the ground. Wind and harsh rain battered against me, soaking me to the bone as I made my way down.
Despite the slowed descent, I still slammed into the roof of the base of the tower and I quickly found myself sliding down its domed surface. I lashed out with my hands and feet, trying to find purchase as I looked at the rapidly approaching ledge. Grabbing more seeds from the sack I brought down with me, I grew more vines to lash around a statue of a dragon just as I went over, catching me as I fell. The momentum was hard to stop, I found, because the ground still rapidly approached me and I hit the dirt with a thud that knocked the wind out of my lungs.
I was alive, I thought, laying on my back as I looked up at the tower I just rappeled down from. The entire thing took about thirty seconds, but they had been the most terrifying thirty seconds of my life. Swallowing my fear, I rolled over and pushed myself to my feet and started running.
The darkspawn reached the bridge of the archers, I quickly noticed. They were fighting, but the darkapwn that had been in the tower were pouring out now. It was only a matter of time before they were completely overrun. I ignored the sounds of fighting and desperate pleas as the darkspawn savaged the archers, ripping them apart, or dragging women away. There was nothing that I could do for them, I told myself, even if the words sounded hollow.
Leaping on the railing of the bridge, I sprinted past the conflict to see that the fighting hadn’t reached the central camp yet. It would soon as the back layer of archers were already fleeing. I also saw that the anvil seemed to realize that they were fighting alone and were doing their best to perform a fighting retreat as they pulled away from the battlefield. I had no clue if they would make it or not, but it didn’t matter right now.
I entered the Grey Warden tent, finding Theron slumbering away despite the battle. My heart pounded powerfully in my chest as my eyes darted around. I grabbed my backpack, thankful that it was where I left it, and marched into Duncan’s part of the tent and shoved the strongbox that he put the treaties in into my bag of holding. Slinging it over my shoulder, with the treaties secure, I went to Theron and picked him up.
“Come on, sleeping beauty,” I muttered to him, putting him on my back and left the tent at the same moment I saw the darkspawn overrun the bridge. They started chasing down archers and the air was filled with the sound of screaming and violence. It echoed in my ears along with my heartbeat and despite the hollow feeling that felt like someone had scooped out my guts, I cast Invsibility and Pass Without a Trace, making Theron and I vanish from sight.
Turning away from the darkspawn horde that charged, sweeping over the camp for the non-combatants that had been hiding or waiting for the army to emerge victorious. I deafened myself to the sounds of their screams of terror -- I found that human, elven, or dwarf, everyone sounded the same when the darkspawn came for them. I sprinted away, as fast as my legs would carry me and made my way through the camp then towards its exit.
I knew the path. I knew how to get back to that woman’s hut. I ran, pumping my legs and breathing harshly as I weaved around the trees, splashing through the muck as rain pissed down from above. The shadows seemed as dark as the void itself, making it difficult to see even with my elven night vision. Off in the distance, I heard rustling and a crack of thunder while lightning briefly offered a glimpse of the wilds.
My lungs started to burn, sweat and rain dripping off of me with each step, while my body ached powerfully. The hollow feeling got worse and worse until I found myself suddenly making noise as Pass Without a Trace failed. Not long after, my body winked back into existence, Invisibility falling as well. Despite them being gone, I continued, pressing forward as my gaze searched the tree line for any signs of the darkspawn.
Then I felt it. It was more of an instinct than anything -- the sensation of knowing that you were being watched. Or the feeling of being in a dark room and knowing that someone was in there with you, even if the feeling wasn’t based in fact. My gaze snapped in the direction of it and I caught sight of a hurlock charging through the forest, directly towards us.
“Fuck,” I cursed, dropping Theron in the muck before I drew the Keening Blade, my blade clashing against his rough iron one and biting into it. The attacks were savage and wild, the hurlock trying to overpower me. Before, it would have managed it easily. Now, while it was still fast, it wasn’t so fast that I couldn’t keep up with it or so strong I couldn’t block. Drawing Fang, I sidestepped a wild swing, hacking at its arm at the elbow before skewering the monster in the throat.
Kicking the hurlock away, I felt something slam into my shoulder, forcing me to stumble a step back. My gaze flickered down to see an arrow protruding from my shoulder. My gaze flickered to the direction that the arrow came from and there was a flash of lightning, allowing me to see the genlock that was nocking another arrow in his bow.
My face twisted into a grimace before I cast Create Bonfire on the genlock, setting the vile creature alight. It screeched loudly, thrashing in agony while I ripped the arrow out of my shoulder. My shoulder didn’t hurt. It felt completely numb, and that worried me. Another genlock came sprinting through the treeline, clashing against me. The swipes that it took with its daggers were quick, forcing me to back up before I countered with a slash at its head.
The genlock blocked, lunging with a dagger, and even as I hacked at its neck with Fang, I felt the tip of it find purchase in my thigh. I hissed in pain, killing the genlock with another swing of Fang. As the body dropped, I looked for another darkspawn but found none. Cursing under my breath, I started to cast Heal, only to find that I was tapped out. Completely. Drawing more mana left me feeling light headed as I stumbled to Theron, who was still asleep while completely covered in muck. Grabbing him, I hauled him over my shoulder and started stumbling forward, trying to put some distance between us and the dead darkspawn.
No such luck when they could sense the taint in our veins. The attacks were frequent as we progressed through the wilds -- a darkspawn here, a darkspawn there or a small ambush. The bulk of them were dealing with what was left of the army, but there were still plenty of stragglers. More than enough to overwhelm me.
With each clash, my injuries grew. I was a poor fighter and without my magic, it showed. The armor protected some, but I felt a bruise forming where the metal warped upon a solid blow with a mallet. Breathing was getting harder and my body was becoming soaked with blood and rain. Still, I fought on for every step we took. The darkspawn came and I killed them to get away from Ostagar.
Until, eventually, it came to a tipping point.
My hands felt numb, my entire body felt cold, and my head felt so light I could float off into the sky if Theron wasn’t weighing me down. A hurlock charged me, wielding a large battle axe that I had seen dwarves wielding before. I took a step back, finding myself thumping against the trunk of a tree. With no where to go, I ducked under the swing, thrusting forward with Keening Blade, and scoring a hit on the creature's torso. It didn’t care and slammed a fist into the side of my face, the metal gauntlet hitting hard and knocking me to the ground.
Mud splashed over me as the hurlock ripped its axe out of the tree, raising it high. I swallowed thickly, reacting when it brought it down, making an X with the Keening Blade and Fang that guided the axe to the side instead of stopping it cold. More mud splashed over my face before I thrusted up with Fang, skewering the hurlock in the throat and making black burning blood wash over me. Knocking the hurlock to the side, I scrambled to my feet, seeing a genlock rushing to Theron’s sleeping form.
Mold Earth tripped it up for the briefest of seconds, but my head became too light. I collapsed to a knee when I rose up, my vision darkening for my efforts. The rain slammed into me, washing away the mud and blood as I nearly face planted back into it. The genlock howeld in frustration, ripping his legs free of the mud I had entrapped them in. It turned to me, snarling and hissing before it began to charge.
So much work was left undone. That was the final thought that passed through my skull as the genlock charged and I could feel it in my bones that it was going to kill me. All my plans, all my desires, and hopes… all coming to an end in a fucking swamp at the ass end of the world. I should have told Duncan to go fuck himself.
There was a flash of light as the genlock neared, the creature stiffening before it fell on its face, flipping over because of its own momentum. My gaze, almost lazily, went to the source of the light to see Morrigan standing between a tree, her staff pointed to the darkspawn, her face curled into a snarl.
I gestured to the side, where Theron sat propped up against a tree. “Theron,” I croaked, my throat feeling so dry despite all of the rain.
“Fool! Be more concerned with yourself,” Morrigan snapped at me.
I didn’t get a chance to respond before everything went black.
Comments
Mr Cyberpunk
Well the "Blight Sickness" is basically a metaphysical curse that spreads via whatever mechanisms the plot requires at the moment and can "infect" anything the game needs it to infect (people, the ground, old gods, lyrium, whatever).The writers have avoided painting themselves into a corner by pinning it down too tightly. Any accounts you find in the games lack scientific rigor and/or are myth/legend/hearsay to lessen any risk of the need to retcon. And Legion of the Dead and Wardens sneer at studying darkspawn; they only care about killing them. So the dog might not even be cured by the flower it just is lessening the Blights effect on it. Plus we are talking about a game in a Fantasy Medieval setting where people, in our world as well, had only a 50% chance to live to age 50.
Bud
Always found it weird in game how the flower can cure the dog from Blight sickness but not humans?
Mr Cyberpunk
Ain't looking forward how fucked his mind will be when Azoth has to find and purge his tainted people. Unless he can somehow weazel a cure from Flemeth.
Bud
Great chapter mate.
Lynxarius
Damn, they got fucked up. Can't wait for more.
