"Archers!" Garret shouted, voice rising above the commotion below. "Fire on those rams! Mages, rain fire down on them!"
The smile on Yaren's face, a mage who Bethany did not like, was more than a little disturbing to her, but she had no time to think about it. Focusing entirely on her spells, she threw down fireballs on the closest approaching ram, watching as they mostly bounced ineffectively off the wet hides covering the canopies protecting them. A few Templars were set aflame, abandoning the machines to roll around in the dirty, trying to put the fires out. Unfortunately, any men lost from the rams were replaced quickly, and the steady progress continued mostly unabated. Every arrow was ineffective as well, with only one managing to find its mark in a Templar's neck.
While the rams continued moving forward, the ladders and siege towers began doing the same. Garrett spoke to three men next to him, who began shouting down to the soldiers manning the trebuchets. The whipping sound of the first trebuchet to fire its payload of rocks made Bethany jump, but its aim was true, and she watched as a section of a siege tower was ripped away, taking many of the soldiers inside with it. She continued to launch fireballs, the stress of the situation already beginning to wear on her. A battering ram further down the wall from her was taken down by the combined assault of the mages in that direction, and moments later Bethany and Yaren hit one of the rams in their range at the same time to eliminate it as well. She could feel her powers weakening already, and reached for one of the lyrium potions stashed nearby for their use. Four had already been used. At this rate, the mages would be a non-factor within two hours.
Despite the efforts to stop them, four separate battering rams reached the gates. Hawke signaled the order as he shouted it. "Gaatlok!" Remembering just how loud the bombs were, and being positioned just above a gate, Bethany backed away slightly and told the others around her to do the same. Even with her hands covering her ears, the sound of the explosion was all too loud, a mix of fire, thunder, splintering wood and human screams. At the same time, a cluster of three gaatlok bombs were sent flying through the air by a trebuchet, impacting into a siege tower and sending it collapsing to the ground, crushing the couple hundred within and around it.
There were a few minutes of rest allowed to Bethany and those around her, which allowed her to observe the battle around her. Things seemed to be going well so far. Every battering ram that reached one of the four gates, of which there had been five, lay in a mess of splinters, blood and body parts. The collapsed siege tower was smoldering amongst Templars trying to avoid its flames, while the other continued forward, missing the section where the trebuchet had done damage and another section higher up where a catapult had sent a spear through the wood. That tower was still advancing slowly forward though, and all the men manning ladders were still moving forward as well, despite the corpses lining their path where archers had hit their mark. The Templars' own archers had moved forward and were sending cover fire, and Bethany could see a few of her fellow defenders being dragged down from the wall, arrows embedded in their torsos. The Templars were making their progress, slowly but steadily.
The ladders reached the walls, under constant duress, twenty minutes later. Bethany had just refreshed herself with a lyrium potion, feeling the effects and knowing she would need a prolonged break from the battle soon. She would not walk away without doing her part here though. Winter's Grasp froze an unsuspecting Templar as he neared the top of the ladder, blocking the progress of everyone below and allowing four soldiers on the wall to push the ladder away, sending it crashing to the ground below. Elsewhere along the wall, Templar troops were reaching the top, most of them being cut down immediately. A ladder impacted the wall near Bethany at the same time that two battering rams neared the gate below. A gaatlok bomb took care of one, but the other began smashing into the gate. Summoning much of her remaining strength, she unleashed a Blizzard spell on the area of the ram, watching with satisfaction as the wet hide served its intended effect and froze. The weight of the canopy was too much, and it collapsed onto the ram, crushing a few Templars. The remaining of those that manned the contraption were easy prey for the archers along the wall.
Bethany continued to launch spells at approaching Templar troops, for how long she did not know, until the voice of her brother rang split through everything else, ordering the mages to retreat. Groups of archers were already running the walls to take their places, and the authority in Garrett's voice was not to be questioned. All but one mage moved to obey, and Bethany gripped Yaren's arm tightly, twisting him around to face her. "We have to leave!" she shouted above the sounds of battle around them.
"You leave if you so desire, I am fighting!" Yaren shouted back.
Not two seconds later, an arrow pierced the side of his head, sending a spray of blood onto Bethany and Yaren's body tumbling to the ground. Surprisingly, Bethany did not feel sadness, but rather anger. A near uncontrollable anger, unlike anything she had felt in her entire life. It took every bit of self control she possessed to resist kicking the poor, dead mage's corpse. She settled for staring down at Yaren until someone gripped her arm and began pulling her away.
Garrett was waiting at the bottom of the steps leading down when she descended them, relief overwhelming him when Bethany appeared. Along the way, she had passed by Aveline, who was shouting orders with all the authority Garret could. "Are you okay?" Garret asked, his concern emanating intensely through his gaze.
No, she almost said. No, I am not okay. "How long have we been fighting?" she asked instead. Up there, in the heat of battle, it was impossible to know.
"Two hours," Garrett told her. Absurdly, he smiled at her. Why is he smiling? "We are doing quite well. The Templars had no idea we possessed the gaatlok bombs, and did not bring many archers to cover the approach of their rams and ladders. Another three or four hours at most, and they will be forced to retreat and regroup."
Bethany tried to force herself to smile, but she was incapable. "That is good news."
"Yes," her brother agreed. His eyes squinted as he studied her. Bethany did not bother to hide the pain, weariness, and anger she felt. "Go with the others. Rest. We will need you later." His expression said the words he could not say then. I am sorry, but I cannot comfort you now. Bethany finally forced that smile, and followed the crowds of mages that were retreating from the wall.
At some point after reaching the Lowtown shop that was being used as the temporary shelter for those injured in the battle, Bethany fell asleep. She did not remember when she fell asleep. She had sat down, back against the wall, watching the medics tend to a variety of injuries. Most of what she saw was not too serious, mainly arrows in the arms or shoulders, with a few suffering wounds from Templar soldiers that managed to gain the walls and do damage before being cut down. Bethany was considering whether to help the medics when she succumbed to her weariness.
She woke reluctantly, pain shooting through her back and shoulders due to the awkward position in which she slept. With a grimace, she stood and began walking around the room, getting her blood flowing and her muscles working again. The medics were still working their spells and poultices on soldier's wounds, and Bethany noticed the increased number of injured men immediately. The ratio of arrow wounds to sword and axe wounds had closed since she last saw. Bethany hurried over to one of the mages who was fighting alongside here, a woman named Genna. "How long was I asleep?" she asked.
"I'm not sure. About an hour and a half. Are you okay?"
No, I am not. Why does everyone ask that? "I am fine. How fares the battle?"
Genna put on a brave face, one clearly forced. "We still hold, though the Templars are getting closer. A few Templar ladder formations managed to gain the walls briefly, which is why you see more wounds from melee now, but they were fought back, their ladders destroyed. The Champion believes they will retreat soon, if only for a few hours."
"Good. We should hurry back to the walls."
"No,' Genna said. "The Champion has ordered that the mages stay here for now and help treat the wounded."
"To hell with what my brother ordered," Bethany said, fuming. She marched towards the door, only to have four city guardsmen block her path. "Get out of my way," she hissed.
"Apologies, Miss Hawke, but the Champion has ordered…"
"I know what he ordered, and I do not care. Get. Out. Of. My. Way."
The guardsmen exchanged a look. "We cannot do that."
The air around Bethany began to crackle with unrestrained magical energy. "Is it really so much more important to keep me prisoner than for the four of you to be on those walls fighting?" The guardsmen did not answer, and Bethany only grew angrier. A tense standoff between the two sides lasted twenty seconds, until Genna pulled her away. "Why are we not fighting?" Bethany asked again, to no one in particular.
"Your brother will call on us soon enough," Genna said. "Might as well enjoy the break now." Bethany could not help but get angry at such a statement, but she did not voice that anger. Instead, she joined the medics and their efforts to treat the wounded, of which there seemed to be more carried into the building with every minute.
Varric was not one to compliment people trying to kill him, but he had to admit that these Templar bastards were very persistent. Piles of bodies were forming natural barriers at various points along the base of the wall, and fresh troops would just pull them away. The dwarf fired a storm of arrows into a crowd moving forward, taking most of them down, but they just kept coming. He took a count of his remaining crossbow bolts, grimacing when he was done. At his current pace, he was fifteen minutes from running out. If he upped his pace, which he would probably have to because of the number of Templars storming the walls, he could probably cut that time down to ten minutes. "I need some bolts up here!" he shouted. "Bring whatever we have!"
One of the crossbowmen at his side ran off to retrieve ammunition. That would not help. Of the fifteen archers and crossbowmen that began the battle at Varric's side, only six remained, the rest either dead or injured. Not for the first time, Varric was glad to be a dwarf. Many of the shots aimed in his direction would have killed him if he was two or three inches taller, let alone a normal sized man. He aimed through the crennel ahead, which was a perfect height for him, and let lose another bolt, catching a Templar through the neck. A gaatlok narrowly missed the third siege tower to approach, but managed to decimate a dozen or so men behind it. Kirkwall's location had proven advantageous for a few reasons, and the mountainous terrain was one of the biggest. There were simply not enough trees to build siege towers in the bulk you would need to make invading Kirkwall easy. The Planasene Forest lay to the west, with all the trees they would have ever needed, but the Vimmark Mountains made accessing the forest near impossible without controlling Kirkwall first.
They had more than enough siege weapons to eventually take the city though, Varric could see that. As far as the eye could see, there were battering rams and ladders, with the soldiers to man them. The only thing that would stop them from coming at the walls and gates nonstop was the need to clear the bodies and splintered wood out of their way. Varric figured that would take them at least half a day, maybe longer with archers on the walls to harass them. As he continued to fire, all the logistics of the battle running through his overactive brain at the same time, he saw a fourth siege tower lumber forward, just as the approaching third was ripped apart by the combined efforts of two trebuchets. That was the story of the entire Maker-damned battle to this point. Every Templar loss was negated by immediate reinforcements. At best, they had killed or incapacitated five hundred men to this point, and there was a replacement for every single one.
The extra bolts arrived twelve minutes after Varric called for them, with the Templars still being held off the wall. Over the next two hours, the closest they came to gaining a foothold on the walls was when a Templar captain, identifiable by the special decoration on his breastplate and helmet, came up a ladder like a force of nature, striking down everyone around him with a combination of brute force and brilliant skill. Any doubt Varric had about his importance as a target was eliminated when the Captain looked to his right, saw Varric, and began running towards him as fast as he could, cutting down everyone who got in his way. Behind the captain, his men filled in the space he opened, trying their best to hold as soldiers closed in around them. Varric never had time to help fight them off, or even watch his companions try, as the Templar captain charged his way, the three bolts Varric managed to fire off bouncing off his breastplate.
A wall of Aveline's guardsmen blocked the captain's path, keeping him occupied just long enough for her to rush past Varric and shield first into the Templar, knocking him to the ground. Varric only caught moments of the battle after that, he was supposed to be dealing with the men below the wall, after all. What he did see was a blur of swords and the constant presence of Aveline's shield as it skillfully alternated between blocking the Templar's strikes and bashing into him. Varric did managed to see the final cut. The Templar captain discarded his shield, hacked to pieces as it was, and gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands. With a speed the dwarf had only seen from Hawke and Meredeith, the man began swinging his sword violently, keeping Aveline on the defensive. A few cuts managed to scrape her armor, and for a very brief moment, Varric worried that his friend would fall. Just as he aimed his crossbow in that direction, hoping just to distract the Templar long enough for Aveline to recover, her shield flashed up quicker than one would think possible, knocking his sword away. Without a moment's hesitation she drove the point of her own sword into the space between the weak point beneath the armpit, the steel biting into the Templar's ribs and driving into his heart.
The Templars that gained the wall after their captain were soon cut down, the ladder knocked away from the wall. After that, the battle settled back into its earlier groove, with the Templars using their rams and ladders to try and break the defenses, only to be driven back. Finally, the order to retreat came from below, and the cheers broke out along the walls. Varric nearly dropped Bianca to the ground, his arms screaming with pain. Someone slapped him on the back, which made him drop to one knee. When he stood, the cheering was already dying down. Hawke stood in the courtyard below. "Don't get too cocky," he said, grinning himself. "They will be back, and we will drive them away again!" The lifting of his sword was answered with more cheers.
Couldn't figure out a way to keep it interesting while only following Bethany. I think it worked out better this way.
