BioWare owns this… blah, blah… characters are theirs… blah, blah, legalese… ideas' mine… blah, no profit, snore… rights and property of said game aren't mine… drifting… OC's and plot belong to me… BSOD
Dragon Age: The Blood Within
Chapter 4: The Blightender, Part II
9:38 Dragon, Vigil's Keep, month of Cloudreach 14, morning
"Well, what do you know? We've got guests!" Warden-Captain of the Hunt Kallian Tabris announced playfully as she read a message passed onto her by one of her Pages, reading the scrawl written on a small slip of paper as the City Elf turned to Lyna, giving the Dalish Elf a wicked smile before reading the rest of the contents of the message. "My boys say that there are seven men approaching the Vigil, armed and armored, riding horses of all things and…
"And wearing the standard of the Order of the Grey!" Kallian announced after her pause, surprise evident in her voice as Warden-Commander Lyna Mahariel looked to Warden-Constable Nathaniel Howe with a raised eyebrow. The archer sighed as he reached into a pocket upon his belt, and flipped a gold sovereign towards the Dalish, who snagged it out of the air with a chuckle.
"Told you, Nate." The Warden-Commander said with a smile, pocketing the gold sovereign in her belt, which was a matching ensemble for the armor that she wore. It was none other than the armor that Master Armorer Wade had made for her during the Blight, made of the hide of a high dragon, and nigh impenetrable by blade or arrow. Its red embossed color and dragon-scaled look left a lasting impression on all of those who saw Lyna Mahariel armored in such a way, a subtle reminder that this was the very armor she wore to kill Urthemial, the God of Beauty-turned-Archdemon. On her back were no less than two full-sized swords, the Keening Blade and Starfang, the very same she used to slay the Archdemon when she jumped on its back and stabbed it in the back of its head, thus ending the Fifth Blight.
"That ought to teach me to bet against a Dalish." Nathaniel shook his head, dramatically sighing in perceived sufferance, making both Kallian Tabris and Warden-Captain Oghren of House Kondrat chuckle together. "The heraldry may be false to lure us into compliancy. We treat this like any other threat, regardless if they are indeed our brothers and sisters or not."
"Agreed." The Warden-Commander looked over to the positions of her Wardens, the ones who had served beside her faithfully for years. Warden-Constable Nathaniel Howe stood by her side, wearing his customary studded leather armor, while Fen'Harel took residence by her feet, sitting up to his full height. First-Magician Velanna stood to Lyna's opposite side, dressed in the traditional garb of a Keeper, made from the hides and furs of animals, and adorn with claws, feathers, and teeth in ornamental locations. Warden-Captain of the Guard Oghren of House Kondrat stood by his customary spot; the huge cask of ale that the Commander saw to was always in stock with spirits. Though Oghren had given up drinking to excess long ago, it was of no surprise to anyone that the ginger-haired Dwarf would have a flagon in hand whenever he wasn't on duty or training guards and Initiates. Lyna knew that the flagon contained water, as Oghren never fought drunk anymore. Armored in his massive set of Dwarven armor, polished to a mirror sheen, his only weapon was strapped to his back, a battleaxe as big as he was. He called it the Darkspawn Ravager, and only the Creators and the Stone knew how many Tainted creatures it had brought down. Alongside Oghren was Warden-Captain of the Hunt Kallian Tabris, dressed in a chainmail top, with leather bracers and greaves, with her favored daggers sticking from their sheaths in her belt, and an assortment of throwing knives in a bandoleer criss-crossing her chest, as well as several smaller knives sticking out of various locations; the tops of her boots, sticking out of her bracers, one behind each shoulder, and a couple at the small of her back. Shale, the living golem, stood near the entrance of the Hall, having been told to impersonate a statue, to have their visitors think the once-former Dwarf some sort of relic.
The doors to the Main Hall opened, and seven men entered the Hall of Vigil's Keep somberly, none of their faces giving any indication what they were thinking, save that their gazes were grim. Lyna noted that six of them were armed and armored as warriors, wearing full steel plate armor, as well as carrying shields and swords. The seventh man wasn't armored at all; instead, he wore a red robe, a Magister's Robe, and carried a staff. They entered the Hall with their eyes forward, seemingly without looking at either Oghren or Kallian to the side of the Hall, their attention focused upon Lyna, Nathaniel, and Velanna. The Warden-Commander looked in each of the seven men's faces, and she had a cold feeling in her gut; it almost felt like fear. She had faced more numerous, more powerful, bigger, larger, taller, and more deadly, yet there was something about these seven men that had her hair standing on end. The Blightender did her best not to look at Velanna to make sure that the Keeper of Vigil's Peak was reciting the Litany of Andralla, to avoid making the Dalish mage more of a target. She couldn't say for certain if blood magic was being performed, or if the man in the Magister's robes was trying to influence her; she had felt both in the past. There was something about them, something that should make the brave wary.
Lyna had always listened to her instincts.
"Andaran atish'an, travelers." Lyna began, taking a step forward, giving her head the slightest of nods in their direction; a customary greeting towards unknown strangers, polite without being servantile. "Welcome to Vigil's Keep. I bid you a good morn on this…"
"Enough with the drivel. Where's the girl?" One of the warriors spoke, his accent thick, a shemlen man of impressive size, one who could have almost matched Sten in size and girth. Though his armor seemed the same as the other warriors, his face was easily the most distinguished among them. A rather ugly scar ran down the left side of his face, starting above the hairline and drawing down to his jaw, bisecting his brow, eye, cheek and jaw. The left eye was clouded and grey; undoubtedly blind. The rest of his face was almost as unpleasant without the addition of scarring. Cruel and remorseless, and utterly devoid of pity, the man stood as the vanguard of the group. Lyna didn't doubt that this man was indeed a fighting man, and though he had a face that could scare a bandit to fits, she didn't doubt him.
The Warden-Commander, at that moment, didn't doubt that the men she was looking at were indeed Grey Wardens.
"No."
"Excuse me?" The man's scarred visage was taken aback by the Dalish's response. It wasn't exactly the answer that fit the question.
"Normally, whenever some jumped-up thug tries to play with scare tactics, we usually banter with questions and insults going back and forth until we finally get to what we want. But I decided to skip the formalities and just give you my actual response. Which is no. I'm not handing her over to you just because."
"Listen, wench!" The man's face went purple with anger, pointing an angry finger at Lyna. "You mind your betters before I crush your little pars-hominis skull under my boot."
"Open hostility is so refreshing. Reminds me of the last Landsmeet I attended." The Commander of the Grey told the Warden-Constable over her shoulder with some humor in her voice, making Nathaniel Howe grunt noncommittally. "Usually I let my temper get the better of me, and at that point in time, someone's head hits the floor while their body is still standing. But I'm in a chipper mood today, gentlemen. Say 'pretty please' to me, and I'll be sure that you'll leave through the main gate of the Vigil with your guts still inside of your stomachs."
"Wait, Gregior." Another one of the warrior men said, this one more plain-looking, with stubble for hair as oppose to the scarred-mans' complete baldness. The one who talked looked closer at Lyna, studying her for a moment. "I'm afraid I will have to apologize for my man, here. Warden-Centurion Gergior is more useful for his skills with a sword than for his diplomacy talents. I am Warden-Lieutenant Mathius Cicero, of the Tevinter Chapter of the Grey Wardens in Minrathous, and we have come to your Chapter house with demands, without knowing our names or our reasons." The one who identified himself as Mathius Cicero took two steps forward from the group of Tevinter Grey Wardens, his hands up at chest level with his palms forward to show that he was moving forward with peaceful intentions. "I'm afraid it is we that have err'ed… Warden-Commander."
"If we can all agree to act civilly, then perhaps we can agree to a more amicable solution that doesn't have to end with swords and magic." Lyna replied, and then signified by nodding her head towards the man in the Magistar's robes. "If you could please tell your… Enchanter… to quit with the annoying racket? Mind control isn't going to work on any of us. Especially if I ask Fen'Harel to geld him." There was an uncomfortable cough from the Tevinter Grey Wardens as Warden-Lieutenant Mathius Cicero turned to look at the man in the Magister's robes, the mage pale as he looked at the mabari war hound, Fen'Harel staring right back. The cold feeling in her gut faded, indicating that the obvious blood mage had stopped trying to exert his mind control influence. "Thank you. Now we can return to your original request."
"The girl." Cicero replied, crossing his steel bracers across his steel breastplate. Lyna noted that while the Warden-Lieutenant had stopped things from escalating to a fight, she didn't doubt that he was simply trying to use a different tactic to complete their mission. "You have her."
"I doubt lying will convince you otherwise, since you were able to locate her here… probably from the use of a phylactery." The Warden-Commander answered without giving a real answer. "Still, it's not my policy just to hand people over without any explanation. I doubt it's yours."
"Fair enough." Cicero allotted begrudgingly, with a small nod of his head. "I guess we can be civil about this. We're all Wardens here, after all. We don't fight our own." To that, Lyna stayed silent; did the man think her ignorant to her knowledge that the unknown woman was, in fact, a Warden herself? "The woman is wanted by our Order for crimes against the Grey. We were tasked with bringing her in so she may stand trail for her crimes and be appropriately punished. If it's all the same to you, Warden-Commander, we have been traveling for some time, and we would like to return home before Molioris." It took the Dalish Elf to recognize the Tevinter name for the month of Bloomingtide, the month following Cloudreach.
"Since the last honest word you said to me was 'civil', my answer still stands as 'no'." Lyna quipped with a smile, crossing her arms across her own breastplate, feeling just a little smug about it. "From what we've learned from her, the story is quite different."
"She's awake?" Cicero looked surprised, and for the briefest of moments, the Blightender saw the flash of fear in the man's eyes. Lyna didn't bother correcting the man's assumption of the woman's condition, but whatever had the man worried, Lyna was most interested in. "Whatever she has spoken of is the affair of the Tevinter Chapter of the Grey Wardens, and not subject to prevue of any other. Likewise, the information that she contains is also sensitive to the Imperium, and any words that she may have spoke is to be considered suspect."
"Oh? So she's not a criminal against the Grey?" Lyna smirked, seeing the Warden-Lieutenant Cicero scowling, his face growing darker. "I knew you were lying to me then, but I actually think that you're telling the truth now. Since she has yet to say a word to us, we hadn't realized that the woman was of any importance at all. Thank you for informing me that we now hold a person of interest with access to Imperium state secrets. My answer is unchanged; we'll be keeping her. Feel free to turn around and head back north, Consors," Lyna used the Tevinter word for 'brother' towards the visiting Grey Wardens, "for we wouldn't want to keep you from returning to Minrathrous before Bloomingtide."
"And how long do you think you can protect her, Blightender?" Cicero asked, an evil smile upon his face. "You try moving her, and we'll know exactly where she is. We'll hunt her to the end of her days, as we are not the only ones who possess a phylactery of hers, nor are we the only ones in the Arl of Amaranthine looking for her. What will your people suffer with Tevinter Magisters in your lands? All it will take for us is to find one of your nobles who will be sympathetic to our cause to make your life quite difficult. As you are a persona non gratis even in your own country, Elf, it shouldn't be hard to locate someone who would be happy to see you dead." The Warden-Lieutenant told the Warden-Commander, without a hint of malice in his voice.
"Is one woman worth risking the ire of our Chapter? Of the friends we have? Of the people that we can 'persuade' to work with us? How would you like to know that ships carrying slavers in secret will come to Amaranthine to kidnap your people? How would you like Magisters and blood mages running through your lands, converting people and turning them into abominations? Or having us turning normal people into bandits and brigands to accost your farmers and merchants, to assault your patrols until it feels like a siege. And we won't have to raise a finger to fight you at all. Is that worth one woman's life?"
Warden-Commander Lyna Mahariel stared at the man, surprised by all that Warden-Lieutenant Mathius Cicero had said, at all that he implied. She didn't trust him or the things that he said, but it was possible that they could make such things happen. Were the Tevinter Wardens alone? Were their other phylacteries of the woman in existence? Would they go to such lengths just to take back a woman? Would she go to such lengths to keep her?
"You know, Cicero? You almost had me there for a moment." The Commander of the Grey told the foreign Warden with a smile as she put her hands on her hips, and stood in a posture of superiority. "But you played yourself too hard, and showed yourself too desperate. If there had been others, they would be here now, and you wouldn't have been so insistent. I kill you now, and make several phylacteries for her, and have them stashed on every merchant train from here to Val Royeaux, and have your hunters searching to the end of their days. Then I'll hire a ship to take her to the Qunari lands of Par Vollen, in which I am well-acquainted with one of the leaders of the Antaam, and give him a letter detailing her importance. I am sure that he'll listen and make sure that she is well-looked after as she sells you out for every kernel of truth just to hurt you. Who knows, perhaps she knows something of importance enough to the Qunari that might make them think that an attack on Imperium lands would be warranted. I doubt you'll have enough men to spare sending them down here to the other side of the world when you've got the Antaam and Sarrebas sending an invasion fleet onto your shores. Perhaps when you're in an internment camp with a Ben-Hassrath explaining how your role is shoveling pig shit for the rest of your days, perhaps you'll remember this moment and think of me."
"You think this is finished? You think that we are done?" Cicero screamed, his visage turning violent as spittle flew from his mouth in rage. "Know this, elf! We shall…"
"Shale?"
The Tevinters never stood a chance.
With Lyna Mahariel calling her name, the living golem that was once a female Dwarf took three quick strides and smashed at the closest person to her, who was situated in the back of the group of Grey Wardens. The person in question was the man in the Magister robes, the blood mage standing behind the knot of warriors in a position of protection from any threat in front of them. As the Warden-Commander predicted, none of the Tevinters had suspected anything of the eight-foot tall stone statue that had stood there silently and without moving until Lyna had called her name. Shale moved forward three strides and drove her rocky fist into the crown of the Magister with all her strength, completely crushing the mage's head, killing him instantly.
In the same moment that the stone golem attacked, the rest of the Ferelden Grey Wardens did the same.
The raging form of Warden-Captain Oghren of House Kondrat was immediately in the thick of things, his battle-ax sweeping in at the same time Shale's stony fist introduced itself into the Magister's skull. It didn't matter that the man whom the Warrior Caste Dwarf was attacking was a good deal taller than he was; almost everything was. He put his disadvantage into use, and turned it into a strength, letting the pole of his ax strike the man in his knees, crumpling him onto the floor of the Hall as his return swing put the edge of his axe straight into the man's chest, cleaving through his armor and burying itself into the Tevinter's ribcage as the ginger-haired Dwarf called out a battle howl as his axe spilt his opponent's blood.
The same time that Oghren had charged forward, Warden-Captain Kallian Tabris did the same, her dueling knives in her hands as the former city elf of the Denerim Alienage leapt forward, taking two steps towards her target, who was trying to raise his shield. The city elf surprised him by bounding over him before he could pull his sword, planting a hand on the rim of his shield and rolling over the top of him, driving one of her knives into his back where his armor didn't cover to provide comfort for sitting. The blade went into the man's kidney as Kallian flipped over the man's shoulder and landed on her feet, pivoting as the man felt. The city elf then grabbed his helm and tilting it back to expose his neck to drag the point of her other blade across his neck savagely, spilling out his blood and his life.
Warden-Constable Nathaniel Howe never moved towards the Tevinters, instead opting for his family's heirloom; his ancestral bow. Nathaniel ripped an arrow out of his quiver and shot at his man, placing the broad head point into the left side of his neck, where Howe knew blood ran towards the head. As soon as the arrow had left his fingers, he had pulled another, pulling back and firing in the same rapid motion as he did the first shot, putting the sister arrow in the right side of the man's neck, where the blood pumped away. The man in question never stood a chance to defend himself as his sword hand went towards the arrows to uselessly grab them.
First-Magician Velanna of the Halla Clan simply raised her staff and focused upon the feelings of Fade Magicka that flowed through her, opening herself to its power, and shot out a bolt of lighting at her target, blasting the man backwards several feet, electricity arcing through the metal plates of the armor that he wore. She did nothing else to the man, the waifing smoke coming from his body a clear indication that the man had caught a severe case of death-by-magic.
Warden-Commander Lyna Mahariel pulled out both her swords at the same time, the Keening Blade and Starfang in each had as the Dalish Elf bounded forward to the two men she would face; the scarred man named Gregior and Warden-Lieutenant Mathius Cicero. Both had brought their shields up as the Commander of the Grey ran forward, their hands going to their swords, when the Dalish Elf surprised them by kicking Cicero below the belt first, causing the man to cry out in pain, and striking at the scarred man with both of her enchanted blades. Gregior was able to parry the star-metal blade known as Starfang with his shield, the sword deflecting off his shield, but it wasn't able to stop the Keening Blade as Lyna followed up with a stab towards the man's head, aiming for just above the rim of his shield. The tip of the enchanted sword, won off the corpse of a demon known as Gaxkang, inserted itself into the skull of Gregior, the Keening Blade easily parting flesh and bone. As the Keening Blade stuck halfway deep into the scarred man's head, the sword known as Starfang went back for Warden-Lieutenant Mathius Cicero. Lyna struck him on the side of the head with the butt of Starfang's hilt as the man struggled to return from the low blow that the Warden-Commander struck him with, the pommel hitting him in the temple hard, knocking him unconscious.
The whole battle took a total of five seconds.
Lyna Mahariel stood in front of the circle of dead bodes (and one unconscious man) her eyes inspecting each to ascertain if they were truly and utterly dead. She watched Kallian double-checking her own man by slipping on of her daggers' behind the man's ear, shoving it into his brain just in case a slit throat wasn't enough. Shale, too, double-check, instead going to the one Velanna fried, stomping on his head.
"We're good, Commander." Nathaniel Howe called out, the fletching of an arrow by his right ear as he held his bow taunt, his archers' eyes looking for any betrayal of life. "The only one still breathing is the chatty one."
"Good. Let's relieve him of his possessions and tie him up. Then we'll have two people we can question." Lyna replied, and though she smiled, it never reached her eyes.
A/N: I tried keeping the skills canon; below the belt is a rogue move, but a pummel strike is not. Kallian Tabris's maneuver was more akin to the backstab from DA II. Shale smash. Enough said.