A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Anyone here from Mass Vexations 2; it wasn't my idea. If you aren't here from Vexations, go read it now. Mass Vexations 1 and 2 are for anyone who likes Mass Effect just as much as DA.
Last time on Life on Thedas; the Warden's party reached Redcliffe only to find it besieged by undead. The Warden's party aids in preparations for its defence, and now waits in darkness for the undead to arrive.
Chapter Three: Tower Defence
The night was incredibly still. There were no crickets. No sound from the village below, no small animals. The only noise was the soft clinks of our armour as we shifted uneasily. I tried to calm myself. You've done this a million times before, right? A big green cloud pops up right before they attack, then after a few waves they attack from the lake. Sure you usually come here after the Circle so you have some levels and equipment, but how hard can it be? I shifted from foot to foot, the silence maddening. My thoughts were buzzing like a crowd of insects. Something had to happen, something had to break this impenetrable blanket of quiet -
"How long do we have to wait?" I blurted out, shattering the silence and masterfully making myself the centre of attention. I wanted to disappear through a crack in the ground under their withering stares. At that point, I would have taken the zombie invasion just to kill the moment. Oh wait, should I be calling them zombies? They're undead, but not the kind that shamble and bite you. These stove your head in with a mace. But calling them undead is a little generic, so – stop talking to yourself!
I heard noise from below. It sounded like the townspeople had spotted the invaders. I craned my neck, and spotted the cloud of poisonous-looking green gas crossing the bridge. The people below were obviously busy arming themselves, but I had the wonderful opportunity to sit around and wait for the zombies to come. Or undead.
The first of the undead came. They were vague silhouettes, distinguishable by the odd jerkiness of their movements. It was too dark to pick out the details, and for that I was mildly grateful. We waited until they had advanced a little closer.
"Light the traps!" Ser Perth ordered, "Burn these foul creatures!"
At least in reality the melee party members won't charge through the fire like idiots. Berwick threw a torch into the flame trap. It was a curved line of oil-soaked kindling and other spare bits of wood, clustered on oil-soaked grass around more barrels of oil. It went up in an impressive fireball, the heat wave drying my nervous sweat. A couple of flaming undead stumbled around before toppling over. I was starting to feel more confident about the defence when more of the undead poured through. Engine limitations had reduced the invading zombie 'horde' in the game to a handful every minute or so. This was a full battalion, each carrying a rusty-looking sword, axe or mace. They shambled through the fire, even the wall of flame incapable of halting them.
"Steady!" Elisa ordered. Her voice was like a rod of iron. It compelled me to act when my mind rebelled. It gave me the strength to stand and face the first walking corpse to reach me. I was suddenly aware of all the details the game had spared me. 'Rotten' was an understatement. The flesh of this creature's face was grey and bloated, distended like a funhouse mirror. It seemed to be oozing off the skull in slippery sheets, and even over the smell of roasting corpse I could smell the sickly sweetness of death.
Its mace came down. I deflected with my shield, returning with a forehand chop to the midsection. My sword easily hacked through the desiccated flesh but was stopped short by its ribs. The undead showed no reaction, drawing back its mace for another strike. I pulled my leg back and kicked out into its midsection, knocking it off my sword. I followed up with a massive strike, like I was pitching a ball. This blow was strong enough to cut clean through, and my first undead opponent was dispatched. Now I just had another 53,595 to go. I noticed Sten bisect one with a single massive swing. Alistair broke the neck of another with a vicious chop to the throat with the edge of his shield. Leliana and Berwick were peppering the oncoming group with arrows, managing to drop quite a few before they reached us.
Elisa, meanwhile, was chopping away with both swords without a care in the world. She moved effortlessly in her chainmail, her off-hand sword striking hearts and parrying swings while her main sword cut off heads and limbs. Morrigan was having some fun, too. Lightning arced periodically across the group, and I thought I saw a fireball.
I managed to kill another corpse with a lucky decapitation, and turned to face a rather monstrous one I didn't recognise from the games. It was at least a head taller than me, wearing the remains of black armour and wielding a sword. I hastily parried a swing with my shield, and my counter swing was parried too. I stumbled back from a second strike and lashed out wildly. My sword found a gap in the armour on the zombie's left arm. Or was that undead? In any case, the limb in question dropped off like dead weight. There was the briefest of pauses as we both stared at the stump.
The undead came at me again, swinging. I punched its remaining arm with my shield, and moved out of the way. I swung again, and the corpse's right arm came off too. There was another pause, longer than the last. It charged at me again, madly gnashing its rotten teeth. I ducked aside and slashed out. The creature's right leg detached like a wet tissue, leaving the corpse a triple amputee. It seemed to consider the injuries.
"You've only got one leg left," I said. Another pause. "I'll take that too."
The corpse started to hop towards me, painfully slow. I sighed and rolled my eyes, giving it a final slash. Its last leg popped off and the torso dropped to the earth. The head was still alive, making unholy noises at me.
"Alright, we'll call it a draw," I said in a British accent, and giggled hysterically. Great, the universe makes me want to soil myself and consoles me with the Black Knight. I pulled my gaze away from the torso and noticed the rest of the party had cleaned up without my help. I tried to feel happy about my grand total of three zombie kills. I definitely wouldn't have made it if that car had knocked me into Dead Rising or Resident Evil. But at least in Dead Rising I wouldn't have to contend with anyone in MY STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!
"The monsters are attacking from the lake!" We turned to look as Tomas arrived at the top of the hill. "They're attacking the barricades! We need help!"
"Stay here and guard the path!" Elisa ordered. The knights, Dwyn and his thugs nodded. We set off down the hill after Tomas. An annoyance in the day, it felt outright murderous at night. I tripped on an innumerable amount of things invisible in the dark, almost rolling down the hill most times. It didn't help that the moon was barely visible from behind a cloud of thick fog. With nothing for light but as many torches as we had been able to make that day, it was downright awful conditions for a fight.
As we neared the chantry we could pick out the details of the battle. Corpses were coming in from the lake shores in a steady stream, slower than up the path by still a danger. The men at the barricades were struggling bravely, sending waves of shafts into the silhouettes while hacking at any corpse that got too close.
"Ventus, Leliana, help the left flank!" Elisa barked. "Morrigan, Alistair, right flank! Sten, with me!"
She dived right into the fray, her swords cutting with roughly the same efficiency of an industrial lawnmower. Sten was more the equivalent of a walking brick outhouse holding a sledgehammer. The pair visibly divided the horde as they took the path of least resistance. A descending chop from me cleaved a helmet in two and got my sword stuck in a corpse's skull. As I struggled to pull it free Leliana dropped three with arrows to the forehead.
"Move up!" Elisa shouted. "Funnel them, stop them from surrounding us!"
I heard lightning crackle and smelled burn flesh. Morrigan was acting on the order. Leliana moved steadily forward, sending a storm of arrows into the crowd. I stayed as close to her as I dared, my shield covering more of her than it was of me. She dropped corpses like a turret, but unfortunately she didn't have infinite ammo like in the game. Leliana fired her last arrow and slung her bow into a holster on her back. She whipped out two short swords, her stance making it clear she knew how to use them.
A zombie came to meet us, mace swinging. I blocked it with my shield, a wave of pain shooting up my arm. Leliana ducked under my shield and stabbed up into the zombie's chest, quickly pulling it back out and cutting its throat with her other sword. It tumbled back, and Leliana let out a sharp exhale of approval. Another zombie shambled over, raising an axe. Leliana dropped her off-hand sword and scooped up a handful of dust, flinging it into the creature's eyes. Blinded, it couldn't react as Leliana circled it in a heartbeat and impaled it. I darted forward to shield Leliana, just in time to catch another blow.
This continued for a time. I started to get into a sort of rhythm. I let Leliana do all the killing and busied myself protecting her. She grew more daring in her attacks, growing to trust my shield work. At last, she decapitated the final zombie. We stood there, panting, taking advantage of the pause in combat.
"Steady, men," Elisa called over the square, squinting into the gloom. "We have a lot of moonlight left to burn."
A few people took the chance to bandage themselves. A man was dragged into the chantry, his leg badly mangled by a mace strike. A small boy raced out of the chantry, carrying several spare quivers of arrows. Leliana got priority given her performance with her bow, and I noticed Elisa string a longbow for herself. Apparently the Cousland of this reality had more weapons experience than her game counterpart.
"We almost let some through on the left flank," Elisa said, scanning the battlefield. "Ventus, you weren't aggressive enough."
I made a vague apologetic gesture.
"Leliana, move back to the chantry doors and pick off any you see getting through. Make your arrows count," Elisa went on. "Alistair, you come with Sten and I. We'll cover the left and the centre. Morrigan, take Ventus and stay mobile."
Morrigan simply nodded. We quickly moved to our new stations. The odd pause in the fighting gave us some time to catch our breath. Morrigan seemed particularly tired – I guess spellcasting is pretty exhausting. I squinted into the gloom. At least we still had light.
The universe promptly displayed that, yes, it hated me and wanted me to die in a fire. A strong wind picked up, blowing my hair into my eyes. The torches that encircled the barricade fluttered in the gale and went out, all at once. The moon moved behind some thick, dark clouds. The village was plunged into near-total blackness. My heart beat so fast I thought I would burst. I thought I could hear things moving in the dark. I backed away, and bumped into what I thought was Morrigan. We stood back-to-back, and she lit a fireball in her hand.
"GET THOSE TORCHES RELIT!" Elisa bellowed, cutting through the men's terror. One scrambled into the chantry to grab a candle from inside. A new wave of zombies was coming, and the men were wavering. Elisa, Sten and Alistair stood steady at the head of the group, unaffected.
" 'Tis no ordinary wind," Morrigan said. "I doubt the torches will be relit in time."
I remembered my plan. I slung my shield onto my back and ripped the closest torch out of its bracket. I held it to Morrigan.
"Light it."
"What?"
"Just light it!" I insisted. "Keep it lit, I don't care how!"
I'm sure Morrigan would have objected to being ordered around any other time, but the desperation in my voice won her over. Magical flames erupted from the torch, flickering unnaturally.
"If you expect me to be able to keep all the torches lit at once against this wind, you shall be disappointed," Morrigan remarked. I didn't reply. I just turned and ran. Morrigan called out to me, but I ignored her. I knew I wasn't going to get a spurt of courage like this again anytime soon. I charged into the darkness, Morrigan's magical flames seeming woefully insignificant against the cloying black night. I prayed that Morrigan wouldn't let the fire out.
A zombie loomed out of the darkness ahead of me. I smashed my sword into its face, the desperate strength behind the blow folding its helmet into its skull. I ran on, towards the lake. The lakeside barricades finally appeared in the flickering torchlight. Unfortunately, so did the crowd of zombies crawling from the lake. I raced towards the barricade, torch outstretched.
A mace swung up out of nowhere. It connected with my arm, and unimaginable pain shot through me. I screamed in agony, and the torch sailed out of my grip. It arced over the barricade and landed on the shoreline. I staggered back, my left arm on fire with pain. The bracer on my left arm had bent inwards from the strike, and it felt like the bone was broken. I cradled my arm and looked up and the oncoming zombie.
I rushed at it. The zombie had no time to react before I rammed my head into its face. My entire body weight, reinforced by my helmet, met its decaying face. It almost exploded, toppling backwards to the ground. I groaned in pain, my arm refusing to move. I looked up. Morrigan's torch was still alight. I had to reach it. I crawled over the barricade, my arm eliciting fresh howls of agony. I landed hard on the ground and almost didn't want to get up. The endless shuffling of the undead spurred me on, and I could still hear fighting from the village square.
Come on. Come on. It's just a few metres. You can do this. RUN!
I came up from my prone position like a sprinter. I dived across the shore and landed almost on top of the torch, skidding as I did. I rolled over and jammed it into the barricade.
The results were even better than expected. Soaked in the entire surplus of oil, the barricade went up like a napalm bomb. The fireball was so impressive the heatwave almost rolled me over, making my eyes burn. The heat was oppressive, and it spread quickly to cover the entire shoreline. At this point, I realized the flaw in my revised plan – I had no way back to the village square past the firewall.
Heh. I fell into a burning ring of fire. No, focus you asshat! I tried to get up, but something clamped onto my leg. I turned and yelled in horror. The zombies were crawling from the lake and grabbing at me. In revenge for cutting off their access, they were going to pull me into the lake.
They were going to drown me.
I pulled out my sword, but the angle was just too awkward to swing it with any strength. The feeble cuts I made barely fazed the corpses at all. I felt myself sliding towards the water, and dropped my sword to scrabble at the dirt. They were too strong, and I was dragged kicking and screaming into the water.
My armour weighed me down. I managed a few hasty breaths before I was pulled under. I was infuriatingly close to the surface, still on the shore, an arm's reach away from air. They held me, stared at me with their rotten eyes. I flailed and kicked, but it was useless. My lungs burned. My vision darkened.
I was going to die.
Beep. Sssssh. Beep. Ssssssh. Beep. Ssssssh.
"Any change?"
"Still no signs of brain activity."
"Everything else?"
"Just fine. The broken bones are healing well. Still no word on the guy that hit him. It was an isolated road. No witnesses."
"Doesn't matter at this point. No reason to sugar-coated it – he's brain-dead. The mother's flying in to make the call."
"Isn't there any chance he'll wake up? People have gone a while in comas before."
"They showed some sort of brain activity. This guy's a mental flatline. The lights are on, but there's nobody home."
Oh god, they think I'm braindead! I'm not! I'm alive! HEY! HEY! LET ME OUT! I WANT TO GO HOME! LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT
"Oh shit, did you see that?"
"Brain activity's spiking like crazy! Guy must be having a serious nightmare – quick, get the nurse in here."
I'M ALIVE!
An upwards motion, pulling me away. I'm rising through layers of something. I desperately cling to the scene, the vague senses I have slipping away. Words turn to dull roars, then nothing. I float in blackness. I feel wet. A hand grabs me and pulls me up.
I'M ALIVE I'M ALIVE I'M ALIVE I'M ALIVE I'M ALIVE I'M ALIVE
"I'M ALIVE!" I yelled.
"I can see that!" someone answered. I sat bolt upright, and winced as pain shot through my arm. I was back on the shores at Redcliffe. I was alive. Was that a... dream? It felt like a nightmare. I could move, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't...
"Are you all right?" the voice asked. I turned to look. It was a warrior in a familiar helmet. He raised it.
"I told you to leave the fighting to me," Malcolm said with a worried look.
"What are you doing here?" I exclaimed.
"I could ask you the same thing!" the Chasind Warden replied. "But no time for that! We have to get out!"
"How'd you even get to me?" I asked. There was a whinny nearby. I turned. A massive chestnut horse stood snorting nearby, stamping and kicking at the undead trying to crawl out of the lake. A few managed to get upright, and came at us brandishing weapons. Malcolm produced a paired axe and mace, and dispatched them quickly.
"Quick, up on the horse!" Malcolm ordered. I took one look at the massive animal.
"I think my arm's broken!"
Malcolm raced over to me. He climbed onto the horse with surprising agility and offered his hand. I took it, and he hauled me up onto the animal. It was hard work getting upright, but I managed it in the end. Malcolm handed me my sword, which I took gratefully.
"Now what?"
"We get out the same way I got in," Malcolm replied, eyeing the inferno.
"Oh crap."
Malcolm spurred the horse on. It galloped toward the fire unflinchingly, fearless. Malcolm adjusted the animal's course with the faintest pressure on the reins.
"Ya! Ya, Epona!" Malcolm yelled.
Epona.
You have got to be effing kidding me.
The horse jumped. There was a brief moment of weightlessness, the searing heat of the fire, then a bone-jangling collision with the ground. Epona seemed none the worse for wear, cantering off unscathed.
"You all right?" Malcolm called back.
"Medium-rare, but all right!" I replied. I looked up, and realized my mistake. Very big fire + very strong wind + lots of wooden buildings around = bad.
Redcliffe village was ablaze.
The houses burned with an intensity usually associated with volcanoes. The heat was like a physical force, roasting me alive in my armour. The light was so strong it was like daylight, and burning zombies flailed around dying in droves. We reached the square again, where we saw the defenders fending off the last desperate assault.
"FOR REDCLIFFE!" Elisa roared.
"FOR THE GREY WARDENS!" Malcolm answered, galloping his horse into the fray. Epona collided with the zombies with bone-shattering force. What corpses that weren't flung aside were crushed under her iron-shod hooves, or kicked or bitten. I hacked down with my sword, easily dispatching the zombies from my higher position.
Elisa's warcry was taken up by the militia. They surged out of the barricade, taking the fight to the undead. Elisa led the fray, and all the men around her seemed to fight like they were possessed. It an odd moment of clarity I realized the Warden of this reality was specced as a Champion. Huh, the more things that change.
The zombies were driven off, the last falling twitching to the ground. Elisa rammed her main sword into it, stopping the twitching. She looked up at the blaze.
"Who did that?" she asked.
I sheepishly raised my good arm. The party stared at me with dumbfounded surprise.
"Interesting tactic," was all Sten said.
Elisa looked back at the raging inferno. "It's too late to fight it now. Put out any spot fires and stop it from spreading, but anything else is useless."
She turned and walked to the chantry's great doors.
"Let it burn."