Emprise du Lion was a hatefully cold region of Orlais. Adaira couldn't believe she had allowed Adanna to convince her to bring the Chargers south while the Inquisitor herself had taken to the warmer desert climes. The village of Sahrnia itself was in a tragic state. No buildings seemed to be left entirely standing, and snow sat piled in every available corner and crevice. People had been disappearing, taken by the Red Templars scattered throughout the region, and put to work in the mines. Why anyone had stayed in the village was beyond Adaira.
With some backup from the Chargers, Inquisition forces had cleared most of the Templar presence, but one stronghold remained: Suledin Keep. Standing at the edge of camp, Adaira stared at the looming wall a few hundred yards off, lit by the glow of red lyrium, jutting out of the snow like bloody claws. Spending time in the snow-covered region had revealed one other thing as well: the crystals was warm. The snow around each jagged piece melted for several inches around it. It set her teeth on edge to the point of startling as a hand touched her shoulder.
She jerked to see who it was, and Krem pulled his hand away, surprised. She gave him a weak smile even as she forced her fingers to uncurl. "Are you ready?" he asked, clasping his hands behind his back.
"No," she said. "I'm sure a messenger of some sort has warned whatever forces are inside that we were coming. They must have fortified themselves, and yet-"
"There's nothing," he agreed. "Michel is waiting for us," he said with a motion. The ex-Chevalier could be seen some distance off, staring at the keep, just as she had been.
Adiara looked over her shoulder to the camp and nodded. "Let's go. The longer we wait, the more time they have to prepare."
Krem nodded and turned back toward the camp. "Chargers," he called out, voice carrying over the quiet snow. "Form up."
"Bad news, my lady," Michel said as she approached. Turning to face her fully, he took in a heavy breath. "Your efforts to drive off the Red Templars have not gone unnoticed. Imshael knows we're here. He's sent Red Templars after me, and a pack of shades descends now on Sahrnia. They will have trouble moving without alerting the forces you have posted, but the people themselves are defenseless. I must return now without delay. It's up to you to destroy Imshael."
Adaira nodded. He had told her of Imshael when the Chargers had first arrived at Sahrnia. A demon he had taken a personal interest in, whose disposal now fell to the Chargers. "Take some of the Chargers," she said, looking to Krem, who turned and motioned to a few men. "They will help you defend the townspeople."
Michel nodded. "Thank you. Good luck, my lady." He turned, crunching his way back through the snow with rushed stepped, followed shortly by the men Krem had picked.
Adaira took a breath and looked back to the keep. "Let's get this done. I'm tired of standing in snow."
The number of empty prisoner wagons within the keep was unnerving. The Chargers found no civilians, but had carved a meager trail of Templar bodies as they advanced into the keep. There seemed too few for the number of tents present, many of which stood empty, causing Adaira's nerves to increase as they went along.
The shock came when they found the cells. The first contained the corpse of a giant, preserved by the freezing temperatures. It's body was ruptured across its back with grotesque red crystals, and notes that had been left nearby confirmed that the Templars were corrupting the creatures, that they were interested in breeding them. Adaira folded the notes and tucked them into the pouch at her waist as she looked into the second cell. What appeared to be a meal, half-eaten, still sat inside.
"There must be a second," she said, and Krem nodded. "I wonder if the lyrium allowed the giants to be compelled as the Templars are, or if it just makes them angrier."
"I don't want to find out," Krem admitted. Adaira tilted her head to indicate that they should proceed. As she turned, the ground trembled beneath their feet. She looked back to Krem.
"You've killed giants before, right?"
Krem let out a dry laugh. "One or two."
Adaira shrugged, pushing away the fear that chilled her spine as she approached the wall that separated them from the next bend in the path. She peeked around and took in a sharp breath. The creature's body was torn by crystals just as the other's had been, and it did not appear to have been affected negatively by the lyrium yet. It was a gruesome sight, a long gash, raw but not bleeding, splitting from head to lower back, shoulders peppered with smaller crystals. It was a wonder the creature was still alive. She returned to the Chargers and gave a nod. "Lyrium infected giant."
"How are we going to do this one?" Skinner asked, frowning. There was little room for tactical maneuvering, and giant-slaying supplies had not been on their packing list.
"I don't suppose you have any giant-poison on your belt, do you?" Krem shrugged. "We don't have time for Rocky to set up a trap, either. Head-on assault appears to be the only option we have."
"Why is that always the only option?" Dalish protested.
"At least it isn't completely covered in crystals," Adaira offered. At the thought of the Templar behemoths, her mind turned back to the events at Haven. "Skinner," she said, and the elf turned to her, brow raised. "Do you think you can cut its hamstrings?"
Her lips curled into a devilish grin and she nodded. "I don't see why not."
When they finally found Imshael, he was not what Adaira was expecting. He stood, calm and otherwise unassuming, despite the devious looking contraption behind him. She tried not to focus on it and what it might be used for, but given the red lyrium, she could make a guess. He beckoned for her to approach, despite the twisted Templars that wandered to either side of him.
Krem stepped closer to Adaira, watching the creature. "You've got a bit more experience with this kind of thing, how do you want to handle it?"
"Let me find out what kind of demon it is, and then we can smash it to bits," she said before stepping forward.
"Ah, so the hero arrives," the demon said as she moved down the steps toward him. "But is it hero? Or is it murderer? It is so hard to tell."
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Somehow, she didn't feel in the mood to argue with a demon. "You're the demon known as Imshael?"
The word seemed to irk him, as a sneer twisted over his face. He cleared his throat and leveled a severe look at her. "Choice spirit."
A desire demon; that made him simple enough to deal with. She summoned her sword, and Imshael threw up his hands. "Wait, wait!" She raised her brows and almost let out a small laugh. "Those are your friends?" He motioned over her shoulder and she gave a disinterested nod. "They're very violent. It looks worrying."
"Didn't you just ask if I was a murderer?"
His expression was unamused before he continued to speak. "True to my name, I will show you that you have a choice. It doesn't have to always end in blood."
The demon before her was certainly interesting. At least it wasn't in the fade, whispering to her. If he was offering her something, there would be a price, likely more than letting him live, and she was interested in knowing it. "All right, Imshael." She spread her hands. "What choice do you offer?"
"Adaira," Krem's tone was warning, but she glanced over her shoulder, holding up a hand. He let out a low sound of disapproval, but waited.
"Simple," Imshael said, eyeing Krem even as Adaira turned back to him. "We don't fight, and I grant you power."
This time, Adaira did laugh. "What power could you hope to offer me?"
"Or shower you with riches. Or maybe virgins. Your pick. Then we all live happily ever after. Well, not all of us, but who's counting?"
"Take the virgins!" Skinner shouted.
"I let you live, and you kill Michel, that's your plan? Unfortunately for you, demon, I think he will be of more use to the Inquisition."
"Oh, for the-! Choice! Spirit!" the demon spat, waving his arm to dispel the enchantment surrounding him. His form was revealed, and Adaira stumbled back. She had thought he was a simple desire demon, but he was something much more. "If you won't be smart, be afraid!"
"Maker," she hissed under her breath, casting a barrier as the Chargers rushed forward. The Templars that had previously been inattentive turned, screaming as they were compelled to attack. Charred corpses shambled forward, and she heard someone let out a disgusted shout.
Adaira slashed at the corpses as they came near, working her way closer to the demon. The demon was floating, twisting and jabbing with its multiple legs as it hissed. She raised a hand, concentrating as Grim distracted the demon. It was time for something new. She let out a grunt of effort and a cloudy bubble formed, trapping the demon inside in a vortex of slowed time. "Grim!" It was not a spell she could hold for long, and she didn't yet trust herself with moving while expending so much energy.
The man let out a grunt and pulled back for a great swing, slashing through Imshael's lower abdomen. With the disruption caused by Grim's force, Adaira's spell was broken, and the demon screamed, a sound like claws on metal, causing the Chargers to flinch. He lifted himself up, despite the grievous wound, snarling down at them. "Where's Michel?" He demanded. "Afraid of another disastrous blunder?" His form blurred, flickering in and out of view for several moments before he dropped again, his body made of raging magma. He howled again, blackened arms swinging out wildly. "Enough of this!"
Adaira ground her teeth. Of course it would turn into a rage demon. She wished for a moment that they had brought another mage. She hated frost spells, but there was little that could be done. He would melt standard weapons in his current form without being made into something more solid. Her sword faded as she blew out a cone of frozen air from her palm. Imshael bellowed and lunged for her, but his body was slowed. She moved back, keeping enough distance that his arms couldn't reach her as the Chargers cleared out the smaller monstrosities it had summoned as well as the remaining Templars.
She could feel herself tightening, her magic reserves thinning like a bowstring pulled too taut. Krem's hammer smashed into the Imshael's hardened back, sending chunks of solidified rock. Adaira took the distraction to down a lyrium potion, refreshing and cool down her throat before she renewed her assault. "Dalish!"
The elf's projectiles exploded against Imshael's solidified form, sending more chunk of his body scattering. The demon let out a roar, blackened arms raising, fists clenching, and he grew in size. Adaira stepped back, increasing the force of her magic with a grimace. "You will not destroy me!" The demon shouted, continuing to swell. Her magic was stronger at a closer range, but his arms lengthened as he grew taller.
Adaira's spell died, her mana reserves exhausted, and she stumbled back as Imshael shook himself free of the cooled parts of his body. "I am not the enemy!" Imshael growled, "All these people chose to be here!" He threw an arm out, lengthened considerably since he had changed form. He swiped again, catching Adaira and knocking her back into a pile of rubble.
Thankful for her armor, she scrambled back to her feet. Looking up, she caught sight of Krem watching her, distracted from Imshael. The demon noticed, too. He let out a triumphant bellow, and his body began to change again, growing further in height and girth. Adaira waved off Krem's concerns. "Focus on Imshael," she called. Realizing his error, Krem nodded and turned back to the demon, but was forced to take a step back.
The demon was too big for her time-warping magic, and she doubted her ability to cast the spell again regardless. Finally standing straight again, she heard Imshael laugh, a deep, disturbing sound. His dark, clawed arm reaches up. "Lightning!" Adaira shouted her warning even as the rope of energy crashed down around them.
"Mages," Imshael spat. "Always thinking they know everything." He turned toward her, beady eyes boring into her. "Where is your sword now? Not low on energy, are you?"
Adaira ground her teeth but forced her expression to shift to passive, unworried. "What do I need my sword for? We've already forced you to change your form twice now. You're nearly dead."
Imshael snarled and lunged toward her, reaching out with a jagged arm. He stopped when a heavy crunch sounded and let out a howl as he fell to one knee. Krem stood by the other, which was now broken- twisted and bloody- breathing heavy and waving for Adaira to move further from the demon. Skinner saw her chance and leapt for Imshael's head, grabbing on to the rigid spikes and searching for a weakness in his armor. Imshael bellowed again and snatched the elf away from him before throwing her to the side and into Grim. Before Krem could move away, Imshael's other hand grabbed him, lifting him up off the ground.
"You're just overreacting!" Imshael chided as he brought Krem closer to his face. Krem let out a scream as the demon squeezed, and Imshael sneered at him before throwing him off to the side, away from Grim and Skinner.
Adaira scrambled to cast a barrier around him with what little of her mana had returned. It would prevent further injury from external forces, but not soften the blow of his landing. One of Imshael's hands, now clenched in a fist, came down for her, and Adiara threw herself to the side. She needed a belt with more potion storage. "I am only getting started. I will not allow you to ruin these plans!" Imshael swung a chain of lightning again as he shouted.
Spotting a discarded sword, Adaira ran for it, even as the demon swung again, missing her by inches. She snatched the blade off the ground, startled by its sudden weight. She had only rarely practiced with metal swords, and forgotten their mass. Imshael paused as he drew on his magic again, tired of missing her with physical blows. She took the momentary pause to rush forward, heaving the blade up and into Imshael's abdomen. She had assumed the armor would be thinner, and her gambit paid off as he howled. Grabbing hold of the crossguard, she twisted, grunting with the effort. Stumbling back and out of reach as Imshael bent further down, she heard a feral sound from Skinner as the elf renewed her assault, daggers digging deep into the demon's eyes. Blinded as he was, Imahael couldn't see Grim approaching, large sword poised. With a final grunt, he drove it home, deep into the demon's skull.
As the ground shook from Imshael's fall, Adaira ran for Krem, who lay awkwardly where he had fallen. "Potions," she called as she rolled him onto his back. He was breathing, but it was ragged and uneven. Dalish came first, unstoppering an orange vial, one of Stitches' concoctions.
"Hold his head," Dalish instructed as she parted Krem's lips.
Adaira positioned herself behind Krem, his head in her lap as Dalish poured the potion into his mouth in small, delicate doses. Skinner brought a second red vial, likely Inquisition made, and Adaira cursed herself again for not knowing any healing magic.
"We need Stitches," Dalish said, taking the potion from Skinner. "Go find him." Skinner nodded and turned, running back through the keep.
The gates of Skyhold were never a more welcome sight than with Krem on a cart. He had regained consciousness several times since beginning the journey back from Sahrnia, but each time Stitches had given him another drink to make him sleep after giving him a small meal. He had to be as still as possible, and his body would heal better while he slept, the healer reasoned. Krem had resisted the most recent time, but there was little arguing with Stitches.
Dismounting as soon as they were through the gates, she strode over to the soldiers who were unloading him. "Take him to my chambers," Adaira instructed.
"Should he not be in the infirmary with the others, my lady?" The soldier asked, hesitating.
"No. Stitches will be attending him." It was favoritism, clearly, and a number of Inqusition members might raise their brows at her, but she didn't care. "He can have my bed." The men hesitated again and she made a sharp motion with her hand. "Take him." They seemed surprised by her sharpness, and rushed to finally do as instructed.
"Sister," Adanna called out, approaching in her own rush. "Impeccable timing. We ride for the Arbor Wilds. It's good you're already packed. We have a fresh horse saddled for you," she motioned to where horses and men alike were gathering.
"No, I can't go, Krem-"
"Will be here when we return," Adaira said, her tone firm. "We need you to come as well."
Adaira hesitated before finally giving a nod. "Fine," she said. "Five minutes."
"Two."
Adaira pressed her lips into a thin line, but Adanna stared back, unimpressed. "Fine." She turned and jogged after the men carrying Krem. "Wait," she called, and they stopped, eyeing her. She glared in return, slipping off one of his gauntlets which had been left on to keep him warm. She undid the chain from her neck and dropped the ring it carried into her palm before slipping it on his finger. "It's a good thing you're a tailor's son," she mumbled to herself as she tucked his hand under his other. "Do not remove his armor," she looked up at the men. They appeared surprised again. "I don't know what kind of bandages Stitches has put in place, and the pressure might be important." They seemed to accept this explanation, or they just didn't care, and they nodded.
Adaira looked down to Krem one last time, and let out a frustrated sigh before turning away. She couldn't refrain from casting her sister a glare as she climbed into the saddle of her waiting horse.