Kirkwall-The Hanged Man
Samson. Former general, former Templar Officer, even a former lyrium addicted member of the Kirkwall underground, pretty much whatever you can think of, I am its former. Sat at the bar of the hanged man. Drinking.
Though the Red Lyrium through his chest drew curious, disgusted, and in a few cases hateful looks, everyone recognized he was enough of a freak show to give him a wide berth. The people who hated him did so because they knew what he was capable of. And the bartender didn't throw him out, his coin…what he had of it…was as good as anyone else's.
Though his looks, now delivered over him cleaning a shot glass, was as curious as any of the others.
This was his third of the day.
"Another," He grunted out gunning it in one long pull.
"Buddy…don't you think you've had-"
"Another!" Samson growled.
The bartender looked at him wide eyed, and maybe picking up on the less then amused glare that the former Templar was shooting him, shrugged and relented. "Your coin your funeral pal, just don't cause any trouble."
Samson considered it. "Actually, get me a pitcher."
When the bartender complied, albeit quite reluctantly, Samson took his glass and said pitcher over to a table, sitting down behind it and pouring himself another.
…
Benjamin Trevelyan wrinkled his nose. The smell of dust and dirt was strong in the streets of this…great city. They rounded a corner to find the bar that Leliana's agents claimed Samson spent most of his time. It was a little hole-in-the-wall establishment. A sign rocked and groaned in the light breeze, proudly proclaiming the establishment as The Hanged Man.
Varric took a deep breath. "Ah, home sweet home."
"You lived here?" Benjamin echoed skeptically.
"Yes, I did actually, just over the bar there." He said gesturing at a second floor Benjamin hadn't been sure was a second floor.
"Looks like less than an honorable establishment," Brandon muttered next to him.
"Well you can say that, it takes all sorts to live in a city like this. And if you want an ear to the ground, then the Hanged Man is your place." Varric explained.
"You lived here!" Sera exclaimed gleefully.
"Yes?" Varric asked confused. "I believe I said that."
"Niceeeee," Sera whistled, then laughed "didn't know you had it in you Dwarfy." Sera concluded.
Benjamin cracked a grin which his beard managed to hide, "Come on," he said light hearted, "our target is in there. So the reports claim. Let's go."
They stepped through the door. Out of the cold and forlorn streets and…into the slightly dirty interior. At least it was homely. Bright. Warm. Comfortable. A fire was burning in the side away from the 'dining room' and the bar, yet it provided the establishment with all the warmth it needed.
I can actually see why Varric lived here.
Though there, sitting at a table near the bar was…Samson…the leader of Corypheus's Red Templars.
The former General's eyes met his, and they widened slightly. Yet, the man sat there, and held his ground. Not drawing a weapon. Not bolting, or trying to run. Not doing anything, just sitting there. As if waiting for the end to come.
"Ah Inquisitor," The man's mouth broke into a sudden welcoming smile, "Changed your mind about me, decided I am too big a risk to let loose and run around in the world?"
"No," Ben said coming forward, but not sitting down, towering over the man, "but we need your help Samson."
"Oh? The mighty Inquisition, slayers of gods and would-be-gods alike needs my help? This I have to hear."
"Members of the Inquisition have been infected with Red Lyrium, someone has attacked the Inquisition with runes dipped in the stuff. We need to cure them" Brandon murmured off to the side.
"And why should I care?" Samson said. "After all, you gave me leave, such as it was…exile. Stripped of everything except a generous sum…and what does Cullen think of the Inquisition working with me?"
"He is, less than amused." Benjamin admitted.
Samson grinned. "I bet. Though, that still does not address the issue at hand, why should I care about what is happening in Orlais? A nation far off the beaten path, while I am safe here in Kirkwall?"
"Because you are a good man." Benjamin pointed out simply. "Despite everything else, there is still a good man in there."
Samson barked a cold, harsh, cruel, laugh, "Am I now? And what has being a good man done for me? Left me cold and broken and begging on the streets again, begging for coin. Coin to buy more Lyrium or just to have a drink here at the Hanged Man. And I doubt your General would agree with your assessment."
"He probably wouldn't." Benjamin agreed.
Samson grinned and leaned back in his chair, "Well then, I am afraid since I am not a good man. Since I have done many things the great Cullen would disagree with, then I am not going to help."
Benjamin took a menacing step forward.
Samson laughed, "The Inquisition already judged me Inquisitor, you judged me, will you now go against your word?"
"We need you, whether you like it or not. I offer you the chance for redemption."
Samson's laugh grew louder, "Redemption?" He started hacking. "Do you hear that? The great Herald of Andraste offers to redeem me. Like out of the great tales. And tell me Inquisitor, what has being redeemed ever done for me? You might judge me for my actions, getting thrown out of the order over a lover's affair, or saving the Tranquil Maddox. Did this buy me redemption? It did not even buy me this ale!"
Benjamin snapped then, his staff came off of his back in a whir and he pulled one of the table legs, it snapped, a jab to Samson's lyrium infused chest sent him toppling over.
The patrons of the bar also sprang into action, despite him being a monster he is still one of theirs…interesting. Ben mused.
He heard Sera's bow come up an arrow nocked to it, "Try it and your brains will be splattered all over the wall…if you're lucky."
Brandon's sword came out of its sheath with a grind, Ben checked and the warrior pointed it at one of the patron's necks. "You are too young to die, kid."
"Why don't we all calm down here?" Varric suggested, Bianca in hand, covering the rest of the patrons.
"You see! This is the vaunted justice of the Inquisition! They make a decision and then when it is inconvenient for them they change their minds!"
"Shut up Samson!" Benjamin snapped. "One way or another you are coming back with us."
Samson grinned, "I surrender."
Benjamin felt the tension leaving his shoulders and he cast another look around the bar. Though most of the patrons were only looking in his general direction, most had returned to their drinks. The only threats which remained really were Sera's and Brandon's, and Ben wondered if they were too afraid to move otherwise.
Benjamin offered Samson a hand, the former Templar took it and he heaved him up. Ben was careful to cover him from behind as the Inquisition slowly filled out the door.
"Sorry about the mess," Varric said behind them, and then Benjamin heard the tinkle of coins as Varric flipped over a couple of Sovereigns.
"Varric, what are you doing with these people?" The bartender asked.
Benjamin looked behind him just briefly to see the Dwarf shrug, "saving the world I suppose."
The four of them stepped back out into the cold Kirkwall night, for it had gotten significantly darker even in the small time they spent in there.
"For the world!" A cry went up and an arrow landed at Benjamin's feet.
He instantly brought his magic staff to hand and a barrier sprung up around them all. Deflecting another arrow which would have scoured him alive, or at the least grievously injured him. Another exploded at his feet, but the barrier absorbed it, and a final one flew for Samson, but Ben brought up the Spirit blade pivoting around and deflecting the projectile back at its user.
Sera raising her bow and firing. One of the Archers took a hit in his shoulder, screamed, and crashed to the ground.
Bianca creaked next to him, spitting out crossbow bolts at a gathering group of swordsmen. Brandon charged forward, drawing his sword and shield at the enemy. But several more leapt down off the rooftops behind him, he pivoted to engage them.
Benjamin spun his staff around rapidly, it crackled with energy, and he slammed it down as multiple lightning bolts lanced through the assembled group.
He rushed forward, the Spirit blade flashed out, once, twice, thrice, as he and Brandon made short work of the small group.
One of the initial group tackled Brandon around the waist in a bear hug as they finally caught up with them from behind. The warrior stepped on his enemy's foot, and flung himself back shaking him off. Ben charged swinging his staff firing one regular magical bolt and then slamming his metal staff across the man's face drawing blood.
The Spirit Blade sprung forth again, Ben swinging it wildly pushing a sword away, and then pivoted, stepping into the warrior burying the blade up to the hilt in the man's chest.
As soon as he burst through the line he summoned a magical ball of energy to hand, a cage which emitted lightning drawing still another group, this one of archers, back in one concentrated mass.
He flung his arms out and jutted his chest, a magical rune appeared in the air, and bolts of electric energy flew at his enemies. In the center, they collided, and with the power of his staff he finished them off with another group of lightning bolts which arched through the entire group.
After checking around to make sure they were secure, Ben leaned on his staff, his breath coming out in ragged gasps, his forehead sheening with sweat. That was more concentrated magical energy then he had used in…months.
Sera sent an arrow into the head of the final warrior.
Ben turned around at the sound of laughter seeing Samson standing there, his mouth split into a wide grin.
"Well, no wonder I wasn't able to defeat you after all." He said. "Well, I suppose if we are going to get going for Skyhold, we might as well get going."
Benjamin nodded.
Skyhold-the Undercroft
"Are you sure this is wise," Samson said, regarding the Dwarf suspiciously and the long poker like tool she had in her hand.
"No, but that is what makes it more fun." Cullen noted standing next to him, watching over the entire proceedings.
"I am glad to see that famous Templar wit has not left you Knight-Captain," Samson groused, sounding hardy amused himself.
"Well, it's not like I get the chance to study Red Lyrium on a person every day," Dagna said, a strange gleam in her eye.
"Not helping Dagna," Benjamin finally joined in, observing the proceedings with a slightly bemused smirk.
Samson sighed, "Do I have a choice?"
"No, not really." Benjamin and Cullen echoed finally, together.
Samson sighed, "Very well."
Dagna went to work and Benjamin could only stand watching it for a few seconds. As Dagna literally poke and prodded at the man's flesh. Eliciting grunts and grimaces. He turned away, going for the waterfall at the back of the cave and staring out over it.
Getting lost in thought. Though he could still hear Dagna's experimentations, mostly in the form of an 'aha' or an 'I see' from the Dwarf. Soon he was able to drown it out altogether. Still hearing the words and sounds, but they failed to register.
Time was of the essence, seconds mattered. A few more of his soldiers had died on the way to Kirkwall, and even more of their lives hung in the balance. He did not want to go, did not want to check in on them. He wanted to stay and make sure…of what he was not sure.
Maybe I just cannot face them. Ben thought grimly.
"Inquisitor." Cullen's voice interrupted, snapping him out of it, right next to him.
"General," Benjamin nodded in response.
The man smiled, "I do not believe I will ever get used to that title, though I suppose I prefer the title Commander when you get down to it."
Benjamin returned the smile, his wry and wispy, "Nah, with your experience the things you have seen, and the forces you now lead, General suits you just fine."
"Though we hardly have the forces we once did in the Inquisition." Cullen pointed out, his smile looking less than wispy.
"True," Ben noted, waiting for the Commander/ General to make his point.
He sighed, "I suppose I cannot fault you, Corypheus was defeated, and it does seem…odd…for an Inquisition to have such military power. But, we needed those forces at the end of the day."
Ben nodded, "I suppose you are right. But, Durnham will be defeated, we have to have faith."
"Oh faith I have Inquisitor, despite everything I have seen and experienced," he chuckled at the world play "maybe especially because of everything I have seen and experienced. It's just what about the next threat? And the next?"
Benjamin shrugged, "hopefully others will rise. I never meant the Inquisition to be a military order, nor did Cassandra, we just have to hope that the nations around us can rebuild and deal with it on their own in the future. We will help."
"If you want something done right…" The former Templar murmured.
Benjamin arched an eyebrow, "What was that?"
Cullen shook his head as if to clear it, "Nothing Inquisitor." He gave him a look. "You look tired, I am sure your journey to Kirkwall was long, and you made it in record time." He looked around him to Dagna and suddenly his face turned into a scowl, "leave them here, and go. Get some rest, Dagna is not leaving, nor am I."
Ben froze for a second, thinking to resist, to protest, but a smile slowly spread across his face. "I trust you will make sure that Samson does not do anything…rash."
"Indeed I will Inquisitor," He sighed, "maybe he can redeem himself yet."
"We'll see," Ben replied patting the Templar on the shoulder, he left through the door. Being chased out of the room by a yowl from Samson and a slight chuckle from Dagna.
He crossed over the several steps to his quarters passing by the throne room as he went. A crowd had gathered. They looked at him curiously.
He ignored them.
Arriving in his quarters he slammed the door shut behind him. And collapsed at the foot of the door.
But that situation was only temporary as he leapt to his feet and began pacing. Quickly, rapidly. At the foot of his bed, up one end of it, and down the other. The Inquisitor had to have been at it for twenty minutes, before he finally collapsed in his bed, feet feeling slightly numb.
Yet sleep itself would not come.
Instead his mind was still in over drive, eyes screwed shut, praying for sleep to come. Yet it did not.
Though it was difficult to judge how much time had passed in this state, the Inquisitor trying desperately too quiet his mind, yet it would not despite his exertions over the last few days. Finally, there was a banging on his door. Sooner than he expected. Sooner than it should have been.
Fear spiked through him as he considered the worse.
"Inquisitor Trevelyan, Dagna says she is ready. She believes she has a cure…or a workable solution as she puts it." Leliana's voice drifted through the door.
Fear summersaulted in his chest to hope. He flung out of the bed tearing off his blanket and sheets. He reached the door and ripped it open. Before Leliana could do more than grunt in greeting he rushed past her.
Up the stairs to the throne room, across the throne, this time there were no curious onlookers waiting for him. He almost ran headlong into the Undercroft door, but wrenched it open, and ran headlong down to the place where he smithed all of his weaponry with Dagna the Dwarf.
He arrived finally, and the Dwarf was waiting for him. She held up a crystal at his presence.
The Cure? Benjamin wondered.
Their eyes locked, his searching for confirmation, she beamed, and nodded once.
Ben felt his heart sing, he wanted to lift the Dwarf up and spin her around, but restrained himself, they still had to get to the infirmary, still had to disseminate this cure. First things first. He decided.
Leading the Dwarf, he tore off back the way they came. Though he had to slow his pace considerably. Still, the Dwarf worked her legs as furiously as she could, understanding the haste of their situation.
They reached the infirmary and wrenched the door open, speeding into the floor, his face beaming.
But he was stopped dead in his tracks. The Inquisition's lead Healer stood in the center of the room. Arms drooping, posture defeated. Looking forlorn, and lost, in the midst. Tears were coloring her eyes.
Benjamin's heart plummeted almost as fast as it rose.
"Dead?" He breathed.
She nodded.
"All of them?" He pressed incredulously.
"The last one just died, about a minute ago…it happened so fast Inquisitor…I am sorry."