Blackwall wasn't sure what he was doing, it was an all too common issue for him, he knew, but this time he felt he'd really gotten in over the top of his head.
He'd offered his help, to an organisation of growing size, one guided by a man leading the best spy-network in Thedas. I'm insane, I must be, truly insane. Yet it was a growing trend with him, was it not? He'd thrown himself at darkspawn for years, battled bandits and defended travellers. It had only been natural to defend the crossroads from apostates and templars alike, despite knowing his chances of survival to be slim. For what was a Grey Warden but a promise to defend others? Did I cover my tracks well enough? Did I hide well enough? Am I anonymous enough?
There was nothing to do about it now though, nothing but to do but to go forward.
Still, it had been a good decision, if it wouldn't end up with him hanged. He was a good warrior, but alone against so many grave dangers he couldn't do enough, a dead protector was still dead, and protecting no one. The Inquisition, however...he had a good feeling about them.
The woman ostensibly leading was a curious thing though. She had grimaced when he'd pilfered a shield and mace from the dead templars, the young thing no doubt still idealising war in a way all young nobles did. Shame no intact armour fitted me, although fighting looking just like a templar would be dangerous, I suppose. She'd treated him as expected, nigh on ignoring him when she thought him a common soldier, then with great respect once his 'rank' had been revealed. She was like many nobles in that respect, but unlike the silk-wearing kind with mere disdain for the common, she at least seemed dedicated to their defence.
Young, inexperienced, idealistic and brave...there are worse people to fight alongside.
The company she kept was august though. A seeker of truth, the fabled Cassandra Pentaghast no less, Varric Tethras the great storyteller and...not sure about that other fellow. Blackwall shot the man crouching next to him a glance. He'd met his fair share of mages, even apostates, but this bald elf didn't look like the rest. He didn't shirk away and hide like some, nor did he look overly proud like some thinking they were the Maker's gift to Thedas...he carried himself like a warrior. What are you?
Ignoring Blackwall's gaze, Solas was looking down at the valley ahead. Blackwall had heard of the templars and apostates readying for battle further west, and had been pleased to find the Inquisition ready to interfere. If the battling factions could be brought to heel in that battle, the Hinterlands would be safe for the moment. The elf didn't seem to look at the two sides getting ready on each side of the valley though, his gaze distant as his lips finally moved. "The veil is thin here, we should be cautious."
"Noted." Cassandra grunted, the woman next to Anna looking ahead as grimly as Solas. "If it rips, we'll deal with that too." Rips? Blackwall had seen the Breach, but a rift...it was difficult to consider how it looked, never-mind worked. "But what of the templars? And the apostates?"
"We stop them." Anna was tall and grim, a giant of a woman, and looked like she could chew through stone at the moment.
Behind them, Harding chuckled in agreement with the simple statement. The little dwarfette was a tough one, and Blackwall found the scouts she lead surprisingly capable given how recent the Inquisition was supposed to be. Some former bandits, maybe hunters and woodsmen and the tougher recruits wanting a challenge, yeah, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Blackwall liked the group, as far as he'd seen, they seemed to have...purpose.
"That might prove...rather tricky." Varric muttered, crouching behind a fallen tree and looking down at the valley below. He was cradling his curious-looking crossbow in one hand and was cocking his head to the side, giving an awkward smile even as he loaded it with bolt after bolt. "There's rather a lot of them down there." Blackwall blinked at the dwarf, none of his written works, even the tale of the Champion, had ever mentioned he himself fighting...
Well, Blackwall, you sure know how to pick your company when you're not hiding.
"Indeed, and...Maker, no, not again." Cassandra's mutter turned into a gasp, the imposing woman having stopped her movements as she with her spyglass watched the two forces. "Andraste, preserve me..."
"What? What do you see?" Anna shuffled closer, and Blackwall heard Solas sigh as the elf handed his spyglass to Varric. The dwarf merely looked through it for a second, then let loose a curse and handed it to Blackwall. Next to them, Anna was still looking though, as still as a statue.
Blackwall sighed. He'd seen every atrocity in war, there was nothing that could surprise him. Looking through the spyglass, he wasn't surprised once he turned it to the right of the field, to the mages' side. Anna's whisper was venomous. "More villagers."
"Villagers, farmers, passing travellers and pilgrims." Blackwall nodded, grim. He wasn't surprised, and too old to get infuriated, but he'd sworn to himself that he'd protect others, and watching the many people bellow being herded to their deaths was still hard. Their hatchets and rakes would do little against the templar armour. "Lambs for the slaughter."
"Only monsters would do such a thing." Anna growled, her spyglass creaking as the woman gripped it tighter, still looking over at the deployed apostates.
"Monsters? Hardly. Desperate fools? Yes." As one, all turned to stare at Solas, unable to believe the words that had come out of his mouth. Anna's gaze in particular was one of pure loathing. The elf, shrugging, brushed it all aside. "Oh I'm sure there's the odd evil person down there, but these are not the actions of evil, but desperation. Consider the templars opposite them, more numerous, better equipped, their skills honed for fighting mages in particular. All the advantages lie with the templars in a fight like this, to then expect the mages to feebly walk to their deaths is foolhardy. Of course they will look for ways to even the fight, and of course some of them will be distasteful."
"Well you don't have to tell me twice about that, I was at Kirkwall." Varric grunted, looking back to the valley with a pained frown. "Still doesn't make it easy to see again, all those innocents caught between a rock and a hard place..."
"Their excuses and reasoning does not interest me." Anna growled, looking back through the spyglass as she spoke through gritted teeth. "It's what they do that matters."
"I agree." Cassandra grunted with a nod, before hesitating. "However, there's little we can do about this." The words made Anna lower the spyglass and look to her in shock, making the Seeker grimace as she gestured at the field. "Look at them. Four hundred templars? Maybe fifty mages and several hundred armed civilians held at staff-point? We are barely a hundred strong, what do you think happens if we move to try and stand between those two forces to force a peace? Or if we attack the mages? They're dead any way we cut it, and we'll die with them." She took a deep breath, her hard features showing a glimmer of anger, though, Blackwall thought, more with herself than anything else. "We should stay here and intervene only when we're strong enough."
"You...you can't be serious." Anna lowered her spyglass, staring at Cassandra as if she'd grown a second head. "You're a Seeker of truth, you are bound by oath to protect mankind from magic..." There was a hint of growing anger in the woman's shocked words.
Cassandra shook her head and crossed her arms over her shoulders, tone certain. "I am, I'm not sworn to get myself or those in my charge killed without saving anyone now or ever again, however."
"But...you...that's..." Anna started and stopped, her words faltering against Cassandra's words and posture, both equally indomitable. "You can't say that..." Cassandra didn't move a muscle, the Seeker meeting Anna's scornful look with a steady gaze. "Fine." With a snort, Anna turned and started drawing her sword. "I'll go myself then."
What? Blackwall stared in shock even as he heard Solas drawing a sharp breath to protest. Cassandra was nearer though, and faster, the woman's hand shooting out with the speed of a true swords-woman and grabbing hold of Anna's arm. Anna stopped, then turned her head, glaring at Cassandra. The other woman's gaze was still steady, as was her tone. "Do not make this difficult, Herald."
Anna was young, yet despite that, Blackwall barely noticed her swallowing as she steadily met Cassandra's gaze. "You might be the hero that saved the Divine, but you'll let me go...now."
Cassandra's grip remained though, and the two women's eyes narrowed more and more as the tension grew.
"Too late anyway." Varric's grunt made Blackwall breathe a sigh of relief. Before him, Cassandra belatedly let go of Anna even as the Herald herself hurriedly turned her gaze aside, a trickle of sweat running down her forehead even as she focused her gaze on Varric. Nodding at the horrified question in her eyes, he grimly nodded towards the valley. "It's begun."
Instantly, Anna was turning towards the battlefield, her hand moving to push the spyglass to her eye once more. Blackwall, realising he held the other glass, exchanged a sigh with Solas, the two both knew what he would see. Reluctantly, Blackwall moved the spyglass to his eye and looked back down onto the valley even as Anna gasped in horror.
The 'battle' was like nothing of the affairs Blackwall had seen in his life, bandits had more organisation than the two groups below. There were no formations, no reserves, no commanders, no order. Instead he saw a sea of silver-armoured templars rush forward, some drawing bows to loose arrows at the horde before them. On the other side, the mages stood at the back, herding the civilians forward like cattle even as they hurled arcs of lightning and fireballs over their heads.
The first to reach close combat was a Templar on a horse. The woman crushed two villagers under the hooves of her horse, reined it in to hack through the head of a third...and then templar and horse tumbled over as the horde of hacking and slashing civilians tore her apart and clambered over the butchered horse and templar like a flood of ants.
Beyond them, several templars had fallen to the fireballs and bolts of lightning, the thugs were the worst of their order, and it showed in their poor discipline and protection from the spells. Yet nothing short of a dragon's breath would be enough to stop them, and they slammed into the villagers like a sword through soft flesh.
Blackwall hadn't expected any hesitation or mercy from the templars against such weak foes, and why should they? It was a battlefield, after all. Yet it was still horrible to see as slashing swords and axes cut through limbs and opened up torsos while shields and maces smashed and broke bones with every swing. It was hard to see with so many combatants, but given the difference in skill and arms, it was no surprise to see what almost seemed like a mist of blood rising from the line of civilians as the templars hacked through them with terrifying speed.
Heads, arms, legs, all were falling into the muddy ground alongside the slain. And from atop the hill, Blackwall could hear the screams, feel the tension grow among the scouts at their backs, feel Varric's mood drop like a rock, sense Anna's face turn red with rage even as Cassandra's turned grimmer and grimmer.
Then, Anna's voice cracked. "No...Maker no..." Trying to follow where she was looking with his spyglass, Blackwall saw it. In the back lines of the mages, an old man, his staff held by a subordinate as he with a bony hand held onto a young child, the other clutching a dagger. "Cassandra...it's the boy we saved, back at the village. They've found him and they're going to...no...no please no..."
Cassandra's face turned even grimmer, somehow, even as an enraged murmur travelled through the ranks behind them, followed by Harding barking for silence.
The boy struggled, nearly got free as he kicked at the old man's shin...and then fell onto his stomach as he was suddenly let go. The boy began to crawl through the mud, only to have the old man place a foot on his back as his gaze moved to the combat at the front, or rather, the massacre. The templars were cutting their way through the civilians against mages with little in the way of directly bombarding them with spells, and their shield of innocents were failing...
The movement was swift and sure. The man leant down, grabbed the boy's hair and pulled his head back, then slit his throat.
"No...!" Anna's cry was muffled, the woman's shoulders shaking as she stared at the scene through her spyglass. Blackwall, heart aching for the boy and all others who'd died, felt nothing but guilt as he forced himself to keep watching.
The blood from the slain boy curled around the dagger, turned a bright red...and then the mage gestured at the combat.
Blackwall's gaze widened in horror as there was a great explosion of gore and blood, the ground itself shaking with the impact from the seemingly small spell striking the combat. Through the spyglass, he saw a scene of nightmares as the slain villagers, lying all around the field, burst like ripe melons, their blood and innards shooting out like spears of black glass in all directions.
More than a hundred templars died instantly and all the remaining civilians died, torn to ribbons by the jagged lines of hardened blood and gore shooting out from the bloodied ground like thorny bushes.
And on the other side, the mages opened up with even more spells. Fireballs, arcs of lightning and rays of frost pushing through this fence of foul magic to cut into templars hacking at the spell's result with desperation. Dozens more of the armoured figures fell even as only the odd mage fell, pierced by an arrow.
"I will not stand a witness, Cassandra." Anna growled, turning to glare at the Seeker. "Not for a moment longer." Behind them, the scouts let loose a raged cheer, then gasped alongside their Herald.
Blackwall blinked, unable to really comprehend what he was seeing. Anna's hand, through glove and all, was glowing. A green, crackling light that illuminated her face as she raised it up, staring at it with wide eyes that were only slightly less disbelieving than Blackwall's own. Touched by Andraste herself? I thought they meant figuratively...
Next to them, Solas' voice was a low murmur. "The veil was weak, now it's torn. Herald, your services will be required."
Turning, Blackwall brought his spyglass to his eye to look down again, and once more found himself staring in disbelief.
The air between the two forces was...shifting. Like an orb of glass hovering in the air, bending the light around it, an orb that then shattered into fragments, the softly bending light turning into a shimmer. A green shimmer. Pulsing like some sick heart, the rift in the air made all the combatants turn and stare.
As such, they didn't even see the first danger.
Templars, caught within the web of blackened blood caused by the mage's blood magic, hacked their way back, blood-soaked swords now swinging at their brothers and sisters as the eyes within their T-shaped visors blazed with unearthly power.
On the other side, a mage, arrow still in his chest, rose, feet not even touching the ground, fingers crackling. A moment later barrage of lightning-bolts smashed into the backs of the living mages, half a dozen falling dead in an instant as others screamed and dove for cover.
The battlefield, already a site of a massacre, turned into one of chaos.
And that was even before the shimmering rift throbbed, a bolt of green light striking the ground turning into a massive demon of brimstone, fire and rage.
Up on the hill, Anna turned to Cassandra, hands on her hips. "Now can we go?"
Cassandra sighed, her face neutral as she drew her sword and gestured for Anna to lead the way.
The woman did so in seconds, sword drawn and steps wide.
Behind her, Cassandra turned and glared at the scouts rising to their feet, her glare hard. "Well? What are you waiting for?"
"You heard the lady! For the Inquisition, forward!" Harding, bow in hand, waved her hand forward. Her scouts responded with a roar and surged forward. Blackwall, all too familiar with that feeling, stayed at the front though, the man already rushing forward before those in need of a motivation could. Besides, up front I can shield any of those too anxious to fight.
Below, the chaos was still going on. The templar that had died first during the battle was still on her horse, the beast somehow walking despite a sword being thrust through its skull. The templar herself, black blood pouring from dozens of crippling blows, moved with unnatural ease as she drove her horse into a mage and hacked through his raised arm.
The rage demon had a templar drive his sword through its gut before fastening its claws around his shoulders, making the man scream in agony even before it ripped his now burning arms off, like the man was nothing but a flimsy toy.
More demons were pouring through the rift, a small figure wrapped in cloth shot through the air with a shriek, beam of white light escaping its palms, turning two running templars to ice. They were then smashed to pieces as a templar, warped to a great size and carrying a blade as black as night, hacked through them, the pale flesh under his cracked armour nothing but bone and muscle.
And at the forefront of the Inquisition, racing down like a madwoman, the Herald rushed forth.
Brave, young, stupid. Blackwall shook his head in disbelief, as far as he knew, Andraste might as well have been the same.
Ahead, the rage demon turned to face the new threat, the roar from it loud and dark as its hands shot out towards the woman. Next to Blackwall, a running Solas extended his hand, muttering something under his breath as a flicker of silver appeared in his eyes. Well at least we have one good mage on the field.
Fire leapt from the demon's palms...and split before Anna, enveloping a dome of shimmering light that glowed like a sun once struck. Anna didn't even seem to notice it, murder in her eyes as she ran past the demon's right, her slashing blade smashing deep into its stomach before being drawn free, spilling boiling viscera from the large wound and doubling the much larger beast over. Anna's sword kept moving though, moving full circle over her head before descending on the creature, hacking the pointed snout from its head and sending it crashing to the ground where a last roar escaped it before it evaporated into a blast of fire.
Above, the demon of shrieks and cloth arced over Anna, blast freezing the ground behind the running woman as it attempted to strike her...and then its shot went wide as Varric launched a bolt into its back. The monster turned, shrieked, and then a black-painted arrow lodged itself into its chest, followed by another bolt, then another arrow, and a third bolt...a whimper, and the creature faded away as Varric and Harding grunted, pleased.
"Scouts, suppress the mages!" Cassandra's shout was followed by a shower of arrows and bolts raining over the mages, some who were indeed turning their staves towards Anna and the Inquisition troops. Instead many fell while others scrambled back, their lust for blood turned into terror as they finally realised they were overwhelmed.
The woman herself somehow outpaced Blackwall just as a templar, eyes wide in terror, swung at Anna. The Herald, eyes fixed on the rift ahead, was thrown onto her back, cracked helmet flying as the great axe in the templar's hand came away with blood. A cry, and Cassandra barrelled into him, shield and sword striking in a frenzy, driving the man back as her own blade came away wet with blood.
Blackwall reached Anna, ready to offer a helping hand, only to find her back on her feet, the long blond braid swinging against her back as blood poured down her temple. "Are you-" Without pausing, the woman rushed onwards, bludgeoning aside a confused-looking templar rather than engaging him as she continued running for the rift in the air. "Never mind then." Blackwall, following, crashed into the templar and sent him to the ground with a quick blow to the knee, the mace crushing the kneecap under the armour. Ignoring the wails of his foe, Blackwall continued, realising all too well who needed protection at the moment.
Ahead, a row of creatures garbed in cloth and with their long arms ending in claws, poured from the rift and towards Anna...only to hiss and recoil as a wall of fire exploded in front of them, enveloping their rags in it and setting them alight.
Ignoring the flames though, the massive templar, impossibly large blade raised, strode through. Revenant. Blackwall had faced some demons in his time, but a Revenant was something of legend, unreal, unbelievable, unbeatable.
Anna rushed straight at it, then threw herself to her right as it swung at her, the woman nimbly rolling across the ground as the air above her parted before the massive blade. Rushing forth, she stabbed at the creature, only to have it turn with unnatural speed, turning her blade aside against what remained of the templar's armour as it raised the blade up for yet another strike.
Can't have that. With a grunt, Blackwall leapt forward, shield raised and angled. The blow was like it came head on from a sledge, making his knees tremble as he grit his teeth. But the Revenant's blade skidded aside, harmlessly passing over him and Anna even as he grunted. "Go, get it! I'm on this bugger!"
Anna muttered something under her breath, then continued on, running, the shimmer of light around her parting the fire as she leapt through it and headed towards the rift.
Behind her, the Revenant turned baleful eyes towards her back, free and reaching out...and then flinching as Blackwall stepped close and hammered into its knee with his mace.
As with the templar moments before, the Revenant's kneecap snapped under the blow. But this creature didn't fall, instead it turned its eyes to him, making him feel a cold shiver run down his spine as a hiss rattled out of its throat.
The beast swung its massive blade with one hand with ease, making Blackwall dart back to avoid the blow. He tried rushing forth for another blow the moment the blade passed, but could do nothing but jump back and curse as the creature's backhand blow came at him faster than he could blink. Maker, what did I just challenge!?
Its reach was beyond anything he'd ever faced, the creature swung, thrust and slashed, driving him back with ease. Blackwall was not the nimblest of fighters, relying on his skill with the shield to survive most fights...and now he found that to be a disadvantage as even the lightest of touches upon it was like a battering ram smashing into him.
There was no question of striking back, only to survive, only to defend.
Blackwall was good at that though.
Sidestep, shield angled up. Back, angle it down. Shield forward, tilt body left. Shield close to your chest, roll with the impact.
Step by step, the demon forced him back, step by step, it gouged and tore into his shield. Step by step, he remained alive.
Then, something happened.
Stopping, the Revenant turned its head. Blackwall, though usually knowing when to take advantage of a lapse in concentration, couldn't help but look past it. To watch Anna, feet wide apart, reaching up towards the rift, the light in her palm turning nearly white as it shot out and struck the rift.
With a crackle, the rift seemed to shift, inverting on its own axis in a way that made Blackwall's stomach turn.
Then, it swelled, tendrils of green light shooting out like tentacles of some foul beast.
The Revenant hissed, grasping at the light suddenly wrapped around its waist.
With a boom, the revenant, demons, even sickly green lights pulled out of the collapsing bodies of the dead templars and mages, and hurtled back into the rift.
The second boom was even louder, accompanied with the rift itself shattering, turning into little shards of green light that died away like the embers of a fire.
The battlefield, turned massacre, turned demonic chaos, was suddenly deathly silent.
Then, Anna turned, hand still raised, blood still trickling down her temple, eyes wide in disbelief.
And a random cheer exploded from Harding, followed by the other scouts.
Blackwall, chuckling, gave two claps of his hands, not really knowing what to think of what he'd just seen. It's the stuff that would turn a man religious, that's for sure. A brief glance around told him it was exactly what was happening to many. Harding in particular looked amazed beyond words.
Blackwall's gaze was drawn to Solas though, the elf was smiling, pleased, but not excitedly so, at Anna. Noticing his gaze, the elf turned his gaze to Blackwall, the two veterans eyeing one another.
Remembering the way the apostate had shielded Anna with his spells, Blackwall offered a nod of respect.
To his relief, Solas returned the gesture even as Cassandra offered him a pat on the back. "Good work fighting that Revenant, Blackwall, you do your order proud."
Blackwall hid it well under his beard, but under it he felt the corners of his lips turn.
Maybe this will work out after all...
8
8
8
Thanks to Abydos Jackson, my angel.
