W/N - Many thanks again for joining me. This is kind of a dark one. At this juncture I kind of feel like most of the characters should have a say. Here's a short one with Wynne. This was a nice experiment in thinking how magic would work and look. Morrigan is up next and then the Warden.
I'll be out until Friday for work, but am percolating ideas. :D
Dungeons of the Estate of the Arl of Denerim
It was more of a scream of anger and horror than of fear or surprise. Something profoundly terrible drew Wynne into the room as if the Fade itself was unraveling. Sure, she had seen terrible things before – demons, cruelty, bullying…but man's inhumanity to man in this place put her over the edge. Though exhausted from her earlier efforts near the barracks, a feral feeling rose in her gut at the sight of so many ruined bodies and tormented souls. She leaned on her staff, shaking with rage. As her cry died away, the torturers turned to her as one, their mouths open beneath grotesque black masks.
It took a moment for the fiends to grasp what was happening before they began to scramble for weapons. For a second, Wynne was incredulous that they had not heard the battle in the far hall nor had anyone come to warn them. Then, she realized that the screams of their victims drowned out any sounds of the melee and that their fellows in the barracks were nothing more than cowards. She clenched her hand around the dark, rough wood of her staff and inhaled the air around her, channeling it into magical power as the aura from her body shifted from blue to fiery red.
As the blood-smeared, black clad men rushed to gather weapons, Wynne unleashed the energy that she had gathered in her gut. Heat surged up through her body, her neck and face and her eyes glowed orange as her spell was poured forth through her staff. The magical wave struck the men full force, knocking them backwards, bones snapping like twigs. Now, the torturers became the tortured, some of them rolling weakly, cradling limbs that bent at unnatural angles, some with bones protruding from flesh. Others rose slowly, shaking their heads and staggering about. One man tried to fling a dagger at Wynne and she brought up a wall of energy which deflected the weapon away into a block of wood.
The attacker looked at her with surprise and Wynne gave him a smirk. "I suppose I shouldn't use that trick to entertain children at parties," she said darkly.
The mage moved to launch another spell, but the exertions had caught up to her. She tried to take a deep breath, but it seemed like the air around her was made of molasses and she had to lean on her staff to keep standing. The spirit within her faded, its energy weakening. Wynne took a few steps backwards as men gathered to rush her.
Before she could move, Alistair and Sten came around each side of her, Alistair spearing one of the men as Sten cut down another one. The torturers had had enough and threw down their weapons. Wynne had never seen Sten pause in battle, but the Qunari looked around, seeing the horror of the chamber.
"Wha…what is this place? How can you humans do this to one another?" he said and the mage could feel for his confusion.
Alistair and Oghren herded the prisoners into the corner and Wynne moved to Sten's side as the warrior shivered from both shock and cold. She took her fur cloak and wrapped it around his armored shoulders. It was far too small for him, but she pinned it around his neck and tucked it around his waist. "I can let it out later, but it still might be too short. Come, help me release these poor souls," she said as she guided Sten past hanging and mutilated bodies. The Qunari nodded hesitantly and took the keys that were hanging on a rack and began unlocking manacles.
Wynne went to a woman in a hanging cage whose skin was covered in a sheen of blood and sweat and opened the iron door. "You're free, dear. Here, can you stand?" she asked as she guided the shaky woman out. The woman stood on wobbly legs and nodded.
"I…I can stand," she said in an Orlesian accent. "Thank you, thank you for saving me." Terror was still in the woman's eyes and she glanced nervously about. "Howe…is Howe coming? Where is he?" she asked as if the arl would come in right at that moment.
"No, dear. He is not here. Come with us, we will get you out of here. What is your name?"
Marjo…Marjorie. Yes, that's my name. I think I can walk. Just take me with you please."
Wynne passed the woman to Riordan and gave her a healing potion. "We will. Stay with Riordan and keep behind us. We'll get you out of here."
A man's ranting caught her attention and she looked over to see Sten and the Warden helping a man off of the rack. The man was nearly incoherent and could barely hold his arms up. The Warden wrapped a bloody sheet around his body and guided him over to Wynne. The man rambled something about his father coming to get him and tried to struggle in the Warden's arms, but he was far too weak. With one hand, Alice beckoned the mage over.
"This is Oswyn, the son of Bann Sighard. Please, give him your assistance. We need to get him and these other people out of here."
Wynne took Oswyn from the Warden and sat him down on a bench. "He looks bad. I'll do what I can." She took a damp rag and gently wiped the blood from his face and chest. "Stay with me, dear, we'll get you out of this dreadful place. Just hang in there."
The poor boy babbled something unintelligible and then began sobbing in Wynne's arms. Alice helped them back up and pointed back to the main hall. "We have to go. Howe's men are no doubt aware of our presence. We cannot stay."
Alistair and Oghren brandished weapons at the prisoners. The dwarf slapped the prince in the chest on his breastplate. "Okay Prince Pikespinner," he said grimly, using his nickname for Alistair. "What do we do with this bunch?"
For so long, Wynne had lived her life seeking harmony and civility. While not always kind, she strove to bring balance to those around her and people like Morrigan exasperated her to no end – the people for whom power meant all and life was not precious. But, seeing everything in this chamber of horrors shook her. This was beyond Uldred in the Tower and the broodmother in the Deep Roads. Uldred was a tool and broodmother could not help what she had become. What happened here was by choice. These men chose to do this. Wynne felt nauseous for a moment.
"Oghren, I will take care of this. Help Oswyn and the others into the hall. Be ready to seal the door from the outside."
"What? What kind of answer is that?" the dwarf said as he backed up.
"Just do as I ask, Oghren," she said as she began to inhale power into her lungs. Her staff began to glow and her eyes radiated a fierce bright blue. The group quickly retreated towards the hallway, glancing back at Wynne's growing strength. "This needs to be done. This horror cannot be allowed to endure."
The Warden gripped her shoulders and guided her backwards. "Wynne, you're not thinking of…."
"Yes, Alice. Though it diminish me, the spirit has spoken." Wynne raised her arms up and then smote the ground with her staff. A blue fire poured forth from her heart and a ghostly image coalesced in front of her. The spirit looked down upon her and the Warden with a kindly face, neither male nor female, ageless in its visage. Then, it turned sharply and looked at the torturers. The kindly features instantly changed into fangs and claws and terrible burning eyes. As they left the chamber, Wynne collapsed into the Warden's arms just as the spirit flew at the men. Screams filled the room as Oghren shut the door.