The Hunt for the Red Templars
The Inquisitor and his Advisors were conveying in the War Room going over some of their operations and missions. Leliana's people were handling a possible Venatori agent infiltrating King Markus' court in Nevarra. Cullen's forces were successful in recruiting more volunteers from all over Orlais, Ferelden and even the Free Marches. And right now Josephine was looking over their latest political assistance with relations between Ferelden and Orlais. Earlier this week King Alistair asked for their assistance in mediating a peace talk he was having with Empress Celene.
"We might as well begin with some good news." Started Josephine. "The peace talks between Orlais and Ferelden was long and tedious but in the end a complete success."
"Hooray." Rajmael praised sardonically.
"Both King Alistair and Empress Celene have signed a peace agreement and both have offered a small fortune to aid the Inquisition and this to specifically as thanks."
One of Josephine's aids brought a great sword of magnificent make, Rajmael took it in his hands and gave it a few practice swings. Incredible! Despite being as long as a man was tall it was as light as a feather, and its sharpness, when swung in the air you can hear it cut the air itself.
"This weapon is remarkable!" Rajmael praised.
"Yes." Josephine confirmed. "It's called the Summer Sword. It was forged by Vercenne of Halamshiral, who is arguably the greatest smith the empire ever produced."
"I recognize that blade." Leliana informed. "It was originally used by Teryn Loghain's lieutenant, Ser Cauthrien. She relinquished it when she was banished."
"Yes, and King Alistair meant to return to Empress Celene as a show respect and both monarchs thought it appropriate for you to have it, Your Worship." Josephine finished.
Rajmael had the weapon sent to their armory and decided to continue the meeting.
This time it was Leliana's turn to speak. "We've received this message from Prince Sebastian Vael of Starkhaven."
"Oh?" Rajmael knew the prince was a former companion of the Champion of Kirkwall's but little else. "What does he want?"
"He wants our aid in driving the Maleficarum out the city and then he plans to annex Kirkwall so as to restore order."
"Oh. Well, that's bullshit." A new voice entered. "If he want's to actually help Kirkwall, then I'll actually go and join a cloister."
The newcomer was a roguishly attractive woman of obvious Rivaini origins judging from her dusky skin and pierced stud on her chin. She wore a blouse that shamelessly showed off her generous clevage while being held up by her tightnitted corset. She wore a blue sailors coat with her neck being adorned by a golden choker that had golen coins slinging down from it. Strapped to her back was two slender daggers with two small crossbows strapped to her curvacious hips that made Rajmael think of Bianca.
"Inquisitor Lavellan." Cullen started, clearing his throat. "May I present Captain Isabela?"
"It's actually Admiral Isabela, handsome." The pirate winked at Cullen.
"Uh, Admiral Isabela. I brought her here for this meeting to get her imput."
Wow! This was Isabela? The Queen of Eastern Seas and Sharpest Blade in Llomeryn? One of the infamous lovers of the Champion of Kirkwall that he fought and killed the Arishok for? Rajmael could defintely see the appeal. He had heard that Leliana had been employing her as a free agent for the Inquisition but he never met her.
"Prince Sebastian is waging war on Kirkwall and trying to kill anyone who was ever associated with Anders." The pirate queen explained.
"What? Why?" asked Josephine.
Isabela shrugged. "I guess he's still sore that Hawke didn't kill Anders and is taking out on the city itself. Look, if you want to help Kirkwall send your forces to help Guard Captain Aveline. She's been fighting tirelessly to keep the city safe, and now they're almost spent trying to keep the city free. Not that I'll ever say that to her face."
"How do you know this?" asked Morrigan.
"Because I've been using up all of my favors and influence to smuggle supplies and weapons to the Kirkwall Guard so that they can keep figthing, and unlike the Inquisition I don't have the backing of nations to keep doing it." Isabella explained.
Rajmael and his whole council took a moment to contemplate their next move while Isabela excused herself to try and catch up with Varric.
"We could send peace envoys to try and negotiate a truce between the two cities."
"That's never going to happen." Cullen smacked down. "Sebastian is too zealous and Aveline is too stubborn."
"It would behoove the Inquisition to keep strong ties to Starkhaven." Explained Leliana. "Starkhaven is still the wealthiest and most powerful of the free cities and keep the all of our southern forces fed."
"It would also behoove the Inquisition to show the world that we stand against tyranny." Cullen argued. "The prince is only doing this to have revenge on Anders even if it costs innocents their lives. The citizens of Kirkwall have withstood invasion before and they're not going to accept annexation now."
"Who would you rather aid, Inquisitor?" Isabella asked. "The Prince who only sees the city as far as the Chantry allowed him, or the Guard Captain who has dedicated herself to keeping the city and the citizens safe?"
Rajmael paused for a moment. "Cullen send your forces to aid Captain Aveline, make sure they drive Starkhaven out."
"At once your worship." Cullen confirmed.
"Josephine I need you to take a note to Prince Sebastian for me."
"Of course, your grace." Josephine said getting her quill ready.
"Dear Prince Sebastian Vael of Starkhaven…go fuck yourself. Sincerely and emphatically, Inquisitor Rajmael Lavellan, Lord of the New Inquisition."
"Um…eloquently put, Your Worship." Josephine said finishing the letter.
"Anything else?" Rajmael continued.
"Yes." Cullen answered. "We've finally tracked down were the Freemen of the Dales were sending all of the refugees."
Rajmael had almost forgotten that. Back in the Emerald Graves the Freemen were acting on behalf of the Red Templars in harassing fleeing refugees and sending them of somewhere. "What have you discovered?"
"Apparently the Red Templars are quarrying their lyrium out of Sharnia in the Emprise du Lion."
"Emprise du Lion." Rajmael acknowleged.
"That place was once the sight of a mighty elven fortress, now it acts as a colossus casting a shadow over the small village of Sahrnia." Josephine explained. "Corypheus' forces are scouring the south ancient elven ruins, do you think their might be something there?"
"We can't know for sure." Cullen continued. "But it's where Samson and his Red Templars are getting all of their Lyrium. If we can destroy their lyirum supply Corypheus' forces will suffer a terrible blow."
"I'll take my group over to Sahrnia and see what we can do." Rajmael replied. It was bad enough that Corypheus was using an ancient artifact of the Elvhen now the Red Templars were occupying what was once a proud Dalish base. Well, now it's time to clean house.
Meanwhile, at the Tavern
It had been a while since Varric and the Rivaini sat together for a drink in a tavern and catching up was so much fun, but Varric also knew that Isabela was doing some shady stuff for the Nightingale and couldn't reveal too much.
"So, tell me, Varric." Isabela started after taking a large swig of whisky. Varric knew that ment she was concerned. "I…heard that Hawke was here not too long ago and I just wanted to know…was he alright?"
Yeah, being emotional was never one of Isabela's strengths. "He's okay, Rivaini. Trust me. He's out there right now trying to fix the world."
"Of course he is." Isabela sighed sadly. "That's what made him the Champion after all."
Ah, great. Now it was Varric's turn to console Isabela. Shit. "You, uh, you alright, Rivaini?"
"I'm fine." Isabela defended. "It's Hawke I'm worried about. He's always going off and trying to save everyone rather than relaxing and enjoying himself. There are sometimes Merrill and I are frightened that we'll never see him again."
"Come on, Rivaini. This is Hawke were talking about here!" Varric reminded. "He's been to the Deep Roads and the Fade for Andraste's sake! And he's killed the freak that made the huge asshole in the sky, so killing him again should be no problem for our favorite Champion. What more can the world throw at him that he can't handle?"
Isabela gave a relieved chuckle. "Well, when you put it like that."
"Don't worry, Rivaini." Varric said while putting a reassuring hand on her arm. "Hawke will make it though this, and you, he and Daisy will get your fairy tale ending."
"Hey, Varric!" Iron Bull bellowed. "Let's go! The Boss has got more people to kill!"
"Uh, sorry Rivaini. Gotta go."
"Be sure to have Bianca shoot those Red Templars between the eyes for me!" The sultry pirate called back.
"Every shot will be for you!"
~XoXoXo~
The village of Sahrnia was on the easternmost of Orlais' borders right next to the Frostback Mountains. The Suledin Fortress that overlooked the small on the mountainside was once a base of operations for the Emerald Knights of the Dales, built on the site of a Tevinter ritual tower now occupied by the Red Templars.
Winter had come early here, and the snows had already blanketed the whole region. The journey here had been a new a difficult experience for some of the Inquisitor's companions, particularly Dorian and Iron Bull as they were from places with much hotter climates. Though the former Ben-Hassrath wouldn't be so cold if he would put on a shirt instead of exposing his pecs for all of the world to see. Vivienne still refused to wear anything other than the current Orlesian fashion despite the impracticality, and did her best to ignore the frigid temperature. Cole seemed hypnotized by the falling snowflakes while Varric did his best to struggle through the snow, being vertically challenged made it horribly difficult.
Cassandra was most impressed with how Rajmael carried himself. Despite wearing nothing but his Keeper Robe and being barefoot, the extreme cold seemed to have no effect on the elven mage. And as he walked he barely left any footprints in the snow. Whereas they struggled, he continued to walk with a certain poise and grace that could only be found amongst the Dalish elves.
Scout Harding had told Rajmael that ever since Sahrnia's river had froze the town had gone straight to shit, and as usual, she was right. It was a modest village that made it's living doing trade up and down the river throughout the Empire, but now half the town was destroyed due to bad weather, the presence of demons and Red Templar activity. A town like this would usually be in a constant state of struggle considering it was cold all year round but now that they are in the dead of winter and with no supplies and equipment Rajmael was surprised that they few still here were still alive.
"Excuse me?" Ramael asked the nearest villager. "I'm looking for Madame Poulin."
"That's her there, messere." The vilager answered in a raspy voice indicating thirst.
The town mayor was surrounded in a small circle of old folks, women and children around a firepit boiling what was the closest thing these poor souls had as stew.
"Madame Poulin?" Rajmael called.
"Ah. Yes. You must be the Inquisition." The noble addressed. "Please, wait for me in my home just over there."
For a noblewoman she lived in a very ramshacked hut. Rajmael found it colder inside then it was outside.
"I can only assume that you are the Herald of Andraste." Madame Poulin announced as she entered.
"How can you tell?" Rajmael grinned.
"I've only heard of one Dalish elf who commands forces strong enough to shake kingdoms." Poulin returned.
"That's not going to be a problem is it?"
"You can be an old bronto for all I care, so long as you help us." Poulin pleaded.
Rajmael took a moment to inspect the Madame. She was in her later years, mid to late forties. Like most Orlesian, nobles she was well-dressed, but even in fancy finery her outfit screamed her situation. She was wearing heavy furs that were faded and worn from over use and most likely was the only coat she owned.
"How long have the Red Templars been plaguing you?" Asked Cassandra.
"For months, because of the Civil War, trade with our town had come to a halt. For the past year we have only been scraping by with what we have and now with the river frozen we have no way of getting out asking for assistance." Poulin explained.
"So were do the Red Templars fit into all of this?" Varric added.
"Months ago the Templars came here and offered to buy my family's quarry, and, fool that I am, I sold it to them."
"You let those Red Freaks in here, jeez that's stupid." Sera criticized.
"I didn't know what they were at the time." The madame defended. "I thought they were knights, chevaliers! We needed food and supplies and they gave us just that in return for mining the quarry, but then they came and started demanding the villagers to come and work for them. We tried to refusing the Templars they came and took our people anyway. We are enslaved by the Templars, besieged by demons and in the middle of winter. Please, can the Inquisition help us?"
Wow. Now these were certainly desperate people. Was this why the Freeman were shipping people here? To work a quarry? Rajmael didn't think this was the full story, the Templars wanted the people for something more than slave labor and he needed to find out.
"Of course we'll help." Cassandra answered for him. "But fist we need to…."
"Madame! Madame!" a young boy barged in yelling. "They're back again!"
"Wait. What?" Dorian sputtered. "Whose back? The Templars?"
"No! The Demons!" The boy cried out. "Lots of them!"
Rajmael and his company all rushed outside and sure enough there was a large group of Shades making their way to Sahrnia.
"Quick!" Called Poulin. "Get inside the Chantry immediately!"
"Let's go!" Rajmael barked.
The Inquisitor and his team made it to the front gates of the village where someone else was already taking the fight to the Demons. He fought with incredible speed and accuaracy using his sword as an extention of his arm and dodging and countering fell creatures' attacks with the fluid movements of a dancer and the discipline of a soldier. Obviously, this man was a master swordsman. However, he was tiring quickly.
"Inquisition!" the man called out. "I could use your assisstance."
The Inquisition joined the fray attacking with steel, magic and arrows. Killing demons wasn't a new experience for any of them, thought Sera still acted like a scared kitten, but something this batch was a bit harder to dispense. Somehow these demons acted with more…discipline, coordination as if the were being commanded.
After sending the last demon back to the Beyond the swordsmen who had been the first to the fighting approached them. He was clad in a breast plate adorned with a golden lion head on a purple background. His armor was once finely detailed, but now it was worn down while his sword was chipped and almost dull. And his hygeine was no better, his starberry blonde hair was long, past his neck and to the small of his back while his poorly grown beard was disheveled and wild. Obvioulsy this man was a highly trained knight fallen on hard times.
"Well fought, messere." The knight commended. "My name is Ser Michel de Chevin."
"Michel de Chevin?" Vivienne asked incredously. "Empress Celene's former champion? My, you have fallen low, indeed."
"Wait, who's this guy?" The Inquisitor asked.
"He was once a highly ranked chevalier, and former champion and bodyguard to Empress Celene herself." Cassandra explained. "The official story is he because he betrayed Celene to Gaspard."
"That's putting it simply." Michel stated. "In short I chose my personel honor over my Empress, and it led to my disgrace. But despite all, I still have a strong arm and a stout heart. That and what you see on my back."
Rajmael never liked the Chevaliers. Point in fact, he hated Chevaliers. Pompous bodyguards that wore honor as an accessory and threw it away when it was no longer in style. And he especially despised their initiation right where they snuck in to an Alienage to "test" their blades on elves out past curfew. That was the main reason he unceremoniously split Duke Gaspard's skull in half, but right now Rajmael had to focus on the demons and the templars.
"Are you protecting the village?" Cole asked innocently.
"Yes. Though that was not my orginal intention." The former chevalier informed. "Two years ago I accidently unleashed a very powerful demon calling itself Imshael."
"Imshael?" Solas inquired. "This is very bad, Inquisitor, Imshael is one of the Forbidden Ones."
"Forbidden Ones?" Varric lit up. "Aw, shit. Hey, I never told anyone this, but back in Kirkwall, Hawke and I tracked down these Forbidden Tomes with evil magic, they led us to this demon called Xeben…whatever…and it claimed to be one of the Forbidden Ones."
This could be very bad. The Forbidden Ones were four of the most powerful demons in all of existence. Imshael, Xebenkeck, Gaxkang and the last known as the Formless One. From what little Circle of Magi scholars could learn these four were believed to older than the darkspawn and the Tevinter Imperium, some have even theroized that they were the ones who taught the ancient magisters blood magic.
"Yes, you noticed how those demon seemed to act in military formation, this demon is the reason why. It is far more cunning and acts with more guile than anything I have encountered and I've played the game in Val Royeaux. Since my disgrace I've dedicated myself to killing the creature to atone for releasing it."
Rajmael didn't like this. "We came here in pursuit of the Red Templars that have been kidnapping people and, as far as we know, this place is the source of their lyrium. And now there is a very powerful demon here. None of this can be happenstance."
"Can he help us?" Cole asked innocently. "He hurts and wants to do good. He can help us."
"Do you know if this Imshael is assisting the Red Templars?" Cassandra asked.
"I wouldn't put it past the creature." Michel replied. "I've only arrived here about a month ago, tracking it down to the Suledin Fortress. From what I have gathered your Red Templars are there as well using the people there as slave labor."
"If you know that why haven't you done anything about them?" Sera balked rudely.
"Done what?" Michel defended. "I am only one man with a rusty sword and I'm trying to hunt a very powerful demon and defend what's left of these people from Templars and Demons. I have been doing all I can to help these people but I still have to kill Imshael so it won't harm anyone else."
"Some help you is." Sere continued to chide. "You're the one who released the damn thing to begin with, you're probably going to make things worse..."
"Sera, shut up." Rajmael commanded.
Sera gave huff, crossing her arms and obeying the Inquisitor.
"Perhaps we can help each other, me and my company need to end the Templar presence here and find out what they are planning next, but we also have to make sure Imshael doesn't threaten anyone else."
"Believe me, I would give my life to defeat that monstrosity, but I'm the only one defending Sarhnia and I will not abandon them to the demons."
"The Inquisitions Forces will guard the village." Rajmael assured. "We'll be able to defeat both of our enemies if we work together."
The knight nodded in agreement. "Then we have an accord. I swear, I will die if I must to defeat this creature, so that he never harms another soul ever again."
"It would probably be best if we split up." Cassandra suggested. "Keep their attention and forced divided."
"Me and my company have to head to quarry and try to free all of the people the Red Templars have enslaved." Rajmael instructed to Ser Michel. "We'll meet you at the Sulevin Fortress after that and rid the world of this demon."
"Very well." Michel agreed. "I will see you all there. Hopefully."
The Inquisitor and his companions parted from the chevalier but Rajmael looked back to make sure the knight was going were he said he was going. He didn't trust Ser Michel. Because of the example Gaspard had set, chevalier honor seemed practically worthless, and the fact that Michel betrayed his empress for his personal honor made his word all the more questionable, so he approached their friendly ghost to get his impression.
"Cole?" Rajmael addressed.
"Yes, Rajmael?" Cole replied.
"That knight, what could you sense about him?"
"He is filled with guilt, regret, dishonor and shame all at once." Cole answered.
"Hm, sound like extramarital sex to me." Dorian joked
"He has hurt in him, but not the kind I'm used to helping."
"What do you mean?" Rajmael asked.
"So its true, the Herald of Andraste is a Dalish elf." Cole answered cryptically. He was speaking through Michel's point of view. "The Chantry must love that a heathen is their savior, yet it seems like the Maker's joke that he should save me today. I've done many wrongs to our own people, it shames me that the Inquisitor and I share the same blood."
"Share the same blood? What does that…?" Rajmael let his question linger for a moment before looking back angrily in the direction Michel had left in. "That…son of a BITCH!"
The Sarhnia Quarry….
Rajmael and his companion split into three groups so as to cover more ground, kill more Red Templars and save more of the kidnapped villagers. The Inquisitor took Cassandra, Varric and Cole, while Blackwall led Sera and Solas, and Vivienne took Iron Bull and Dorian. They would split and take the quarry in different directions, and throw the Red Templars off balance with their divided attack.
Rajmael had not seen so much red lyrium in one place since he and Dorian went to that dark future where it had corrupted the whole world. Sweet Creators, it was springing up from the ground like some kind of giant root, they were even hauling whole pillars of this stuff out of here. How could they have so much of it out of the Deep Roads?
The Red Templars infested this place like maggots in a dead carcass, festering in their own filth and forcing the villagers to harvest the heinous red lyrium for them. There were more Knights, Shadows, Horrors and even Behemoths here than in the attack on Haven, proof positive of its importance to Samson and his cause. The citizens of Sahrnia were slaving away and the wasting away, wearing nothing but the ragged remnants of their cloths or sack clothes in this miserable cold. Some of the villagers were chained and held in cages. Why? These people were simple farmers and laborers, not warriors. What possible threat could they pose?
Rajmael and his companions attacked their designated quadrants with certainty and precision. Rajmael heard the sounds of battle, death and destruction echoing throughout the quarry and knew his companions were advancing, and elimaninating their adversaries.
Cassandra used her Seeker powers to purge the lyrium from the Templar Knight surrounding them. The red crystals shattered like a glass off their bodies and revealed the wet muscle, sinew and bone laid bare. The Templars fell to the ground in writhing agony, blood seeping from skinless wounds and into the snow as they died screaming.
Varric found himself surrounded on all sides by Templars, all of them wanting to chop the beardless dwarf into pieces. Good. Varric had been meaning to test out a new toy he made for Bianca that he'd been tinkering with for the past few months. Now was the best time. He had Bianca launch a metallic sphere into the air, the sphere opened and dozens of razor sharp shard of poisoned shrapnel exploded from it and perforated all the Templars' armor and ripped apart the flesh and bone beneath. Varric looked at his new toy with a satisfied smile.
Rajmael stood before three dangerous Templars; a Shadow, a Guard and a Behemoth, the red lyrium they consumed enhanced their powers and disfigured them into crystalline monstrosities. The Shadow had blade of red lyrium extending out of its wrists like extending over its hands like long red daggers. The Guard pounded his tall towershield with a sword made completely of Red Lyrium, confident in his invulnerability behind his shield. The Behemoth was half the size of a giant, and almost as ugly. What was once a man was now completely made of Red Lyrium on dispraportionatley short legs, and grossly long arms, one of them encased in a crude ball of red lyrium like a mace.
The Shadow disappeared in a puff of smoke, completeling camoflaging itself with its surroundings. It would seek to flank the Inquisitor and plunge its wrist-daggers in his blindspot of opening. But Rajmael could sense the profane red lyrium that made up the Shadow's being. It did not matter to Rajmael. Just as the Shadow lunged out of nowhere, and its wrist-blades shattered like they were made of brittle ice against The Inquisitor's Arcane Shield. Rajmael used a Mind Blast of psychic energy that hurled the Shadow towards the Guard, slamming it against its comrade's tower shield. Rajmael raised his sword and cast down a powerful lightning bolt that conducted in their armor, shattering the lyrium grafted to their bodies and cooking their internal organs. After a moment of screaming, the two red templars exploded in a mess of red crystals, red blood, and singed guts.
The Behemoth roared in a voice that sounded like a rockslide, and swung its maul-like fist at the Inquisitor with all the grace and precision of a drunken bronto. Rajmael easily evaded the powerful but uncoordinated attack. The Behemoth reared back its heavy weapon-like limb back at Rajmael, but this time Rajmael stood firm and used his sword burning with veilfire to but the abominable templar's giant hand off right at the wrist. The Behemoth staggered back groaning in pain clutching the stump where his hand-turned-weapon used to be. As it opened its mouth to scream, Rajmael's sword flew straight into the Behemoth's maw, its blade stick out of the back of the creature's head. The still burning veilfire on the blade and its purifying magic disolved the Behemoth's crystalline skull like a wet cube of sugar. Its massive body fell with a thud and shattered the rest of it corrupted body.
Rajmael picked up his sword and wiped the foul, tainted blood off Enasalin's blade. The sounds of combat and echoes of death throughout the quarry had ceased. It was a safe assumption that the rest of his companions were successful and the rest of the templars here were dead. Cassandra and Varric set to work freeing the enslaved citizens of Sarhnia from their bonds.
"Please! You must let us out of here!" One of the villagers locked in the cages begged. "They'll turn us into one of those…things! And harvest us!"
Rajmael looked in horror and saw several petrified villagers completely encased in a coffin of red lyrium, just like Fiona back in that future he saw in Redcliffe. Their faces frozen in twisted pain and suffering as the lyrium spread through their bodies and consumed them like a ravenous disease until all that was left was a pillar of solid lyrium that used to be a living person. Rajmael remembered the horrible agony Fiona was in when he saw her suffer this fate.
Rajmael's ear perked and twitched when he heard the sound of a pained whimper, a sound that was all too familiar to him. As the villagers ran out of the quarry, Rajmael ran to where he heard that voice.
The others made their way over to them, and Cassandra noticed Rajmael running further into the quarry. All the templars were dead, and the villagers saved, why was he running? Cassandra motioned the others to follow her and they all chased after him. They found Rajmael further down quarry kneeling in the snow, but he wasn't alone. He was kneeling over the body of a young elven girl, holding her hand as tears of pain went down her face. Cassandra could see the infection of red lyrium glowing in her eyes and in her veins. The girl was dying.
Rajmael felt a dagger plunge into his chest and break heart as he held the little girl's hand in his. She was so young, no older than Eva. She was too weak to even hold his hand and was whimpering in terrible pain. Rajmael tried to elveate her pain with healing magic, but it was no use: the lyrium was consuming her, and it would keep going until it completely devoured and killed her. Rajmael could not let this child suffer that fate.
"You…you're Dalish? My mama used to…tell me stories about you. She told me…you remember what it's like to be elven." The girl said weakly.
"That's me, da'len. But you're just as elven as I am." Rajmael said assuringly, trying to comfort the child. "What's your name?"
"Lina." The little one tried so hard to talk through the pain. "The templars took me and my parents, said…that we were to serve the Elder One. One of the men hear said that the Maker would protect us, but He never came. Even when they killed my mama and papa."
Rajmael could almost see his eight year old self and Eva in this child's eyes. No child should have to suffer like this. "Those…men, and the demon who sent them, will never hurt you or anyone else. I promise."
"It…it hurts…." Lina sobbed. "It…hurts so much."
"Shhh. I know, da'len, I know. But I…I'm going to stop the hurting." Rajmael promised. Sweet Creators, his heart was aching at what he had to do. He hated himself for it, but he had no choice. He couldn't let her suffer this fate. So...he reached for an elfroot leaf.
Cassandra's soul was a torrent of rage and sorrow. She could sense Rajmael's pain. As an adopted father, Cassandra could not fathom the hurt Rajmael must be feeling at the sight of this girl's suffering. How could these men do this to all these people? To this child? She was still just a baby! These Templars swore holy oaths to serve the Maker, and they go and do something as vile and evil as this. They would pay for this.
Aw, shit. Varric recognized that look on Rajmael's face. It was the same look Hawke had on his face when that bastard Quentin murdered Leandra and desecrated her body. And just like Hawke, Rajmael tried to keep a strong face, tried to hide what was going on inside, but Varric knew this was hurting something bad inside. Shit, it was hurting Varric inside.
In any war or conflict, the hardest thing to see is what happens to the children, no matter which side. Blackwall knew this all too well. It doesn't matter which side in a war was right or wrong, who wins or loses, it was always the children who suffered most. If they were lucky, all they lost was a parent. Then there were those left to starve, or those, like this girl, who were victims of one side's cruelty.
This was the part of his job Iron Bull hated the most when he was with the Ben-Hessrath: seeing the sick shit that bastards like this do to kids. He'd seen it all, Vints burning down whole dormitories so they don't grow up to be soldiers, Tal-Vashoth kidnapping and murdering a couple of young ones just to piss off their old Tamassrans. Poisoning food and water supply was one that stuck with him. But this? Using a kid like some kind of farm to grow lyrim like a flower pot? That was beyond sick. These guys needed to die.
After what he saw in that future in Redcliffe, Dorian thought he'd be prepared for whatever horror this wretched lyrium had. But he was so very wrong. He never anticipated anything like this. He could not help but feel that terrible, unwelcome sense of guilt starting to scratch the back of his mind. Not because this was all being done in the name of a magister, no. But because despite how appalled he was, nothing he was seeing here surprised him. Back in the Imperium, this sort of thing was not only heard of, it was actually common place. Back home, it was an unspoken rule that every noble would at least know the basics of bloodmagic in order to get an edge over his rivals. They would even hold soirees and sacrifice slaves, adults and children alike, in blood rituals just to impress and intimidate their peers. Dorian felt ashamed, not because this was done for a Blighted madman from Tevinter, but because his country set the standard for every horrid abuse, crime and act of terror ever inflicted on another living being.
Arse-hole, shit-suckin', Venatori dick-faces! She wanted to look away, but this was one of things that was so awful you couldn't take your eyes away. Sera had seen pricks, like Chevaliers, do some shit things to people, but this was the worst. This was like the worst thing anyone could do to anyone. Sera hoped the Inquisitor was gonna get some payback for these people, 'cause she's gonna shove every arrow she's got so far up their arse-holes they're gonna choke on the arrowheads.
Vivienne was completely repulsed by the vile actions these Templars have committed. Once they were the best and only tool to fight against maleficarum and evil, but now they were the very evil they were supposed to fight against. How could they have allowed themselves to have fallen so far? They couldn't all have been this weak. Vivienne could see how this was affecting the Inquisitor, and knew the action he would have to take. She hoped Rajmael would finally have the strength to do what was necessary, even if it was hard.
Solas knew that death, heartbreak and sorrow was a very familiar fact of life. It was something all elves knew. But this? This was beyond unfair. This child's life was destroyed before it even began, and being a parent figure, Rajmael felt the pain of this the most. Solas had seen a great many despicable acts reenacted by the spirits of the Fade, but it was always more profound, more intense seeing it happen to in real life, to a real person. Especially one so innocent. And what Solas had discovered would likely not improve the situation. Point in fact, it would only enrage him.
Pain, hurting, agony. All coursing through her veins and in her skin. Cole was shedding the same tears Lina was crying; he could feel all the pain she felt. It wasn't fair. The priests always said the Maker always protected his children, but He never showed up, even when the Templars killed Mama and Papa. I'll never know what it's like to grow up, have my first kiss, or have children of my own. It's not fair.
"W-what...what do the Dalish say happens...when you die?" The brave little elf asked with fear in her voice.
Rajmael kept a strong, gentle façade for the girl. "When we die, our souls are guided by Falon'din past the Beyond to be with our ancestors, our families for the rest of eternity."
"That...doesn't sound so bad. Will my mama and papa be there?"
"Yes. And no one will ever harm you, or take you from them again, Lina." Rajmael promised.
The girl's lips trembled and tears of pain and fear streamed down her cheeks. "Does...d-does it hurt? Does it hurt to die?"
Rajmael squeezed her hand gently to assure her, and looked at her with gentle promise in his golden eyes. "It will be like going to sleep, a long peaceful sleep. And when you wake up, Falon'din will be there, and he'll take you to your parents."
"Will I have bad dreams?"
"No. No more bad dreams, or bad men. Just peace. Would you like me to say the prayer?"
"I...I would r-really like that." Lina smiled.
"Falon'din, Lethanavir, Friend of the Dead, guide her feet, and calm her soul. Lead her to rest, and let her join her family, and our ancestors in the Beyond. Falon'din Enansal." Rajmael placed his hand over Lina's face. "Now go to sleep, da'len. And when you wake up, everything will be all better."
"Okay. Goodnight..." Lina bravely closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Rajmael placed the elfroot over her heart...and conjured his ethereal blade from between his fingertips. Lina's death was quick, and she suffered no longer. Rajmael rose from the snow and bowed his head in respect to Lina; he would make sure she received proper burial when this was done, she deserved at least that much.
"Inquisitor...I think you need to see this." Solas handed Rajmael a set of reports and papers he had found throughout the quarry.
Rajmael's face was as still and cold as stone, but his golden eyes were burning with rage. Apparently, Mistress Poulin had willingly sold these people to the Red Templars to work the quarry in exchange for money and supplies. She sold her people like cattle to be used as fertilizer for red lyrium. And what's more, these notes were written instructions made by Samson's hand that relayed his orders and the purpose for what his men were to do here. Samson ordered that these people be turned into red lyrium and harvested like coal...to be used as raw material for his personal armor. This could not go on.
The Inquisitor crumpled the order's in his fist and turned to address his comrades. "This is no longer a rescue mission. We are now here to destroy any and all existence of the Red Templars in the Emprise du Lion. No one but us is to leave Suledin Keep alive."
In The Suledin Keep
Blood was splattered all over the Keep's walls, and severed arms, head and dismembered bodies littered the floor of the ruins and blood was now staining the snow. Rajmael and his companion had caught up with Ser Michel, and together they laid waist to any and all Red Templars that stood in their path. Steel carved and crushed their flesh, while offensive magic rained down on them, setting them ablaze, freezing them and making them explode into a fountain of blood, bones and organ. Soon the ruins of the Suledin Keep were turned into a killing field riddled with the dead and the dying.
The ground shook like an earthquake and the air was filled with an earsplitting roar filled with hunger and anger that could curdle blood. And it was getting closer. They looked ahead and watched as six Templars pulled something massive with all their might to the battle. The Inquisition and Ser Michel looked on in shock and horror as the Templars dragged in the largest giant any of them had ever seen, and what's worse, it was infected with red lyrium, increasing it strength and rage tenfold. Giants are creatures of infinite rage and hunger, and even under the influence of red lyrium, they are not beasts of burden. The giant grabbed the chains around that the Templars were pulling on and swung them all into a nearby wall, splattering them into wet, chunky smears on the wall, making their bodies look like swatted flies.
The giant turned it's single enraged eye towards the Inquisitor and his followers. It roared and gnashed its grotesque teeth, slammed it massive foot to the ground in primal dominance. Then it wrapped its arms around a massive, ruined support column and lifted it high above its head, aiming to crush all the intruders like ants.
Rajmael had neither the patience, nor the inclination to wage a battle against this gargantuan freak. Or be crushed like an ant beneath a big fucking rock. He activated his Arcane Shield, Enasalin blazed with white-hot veilfire, and he Fade Stepped and dashed forward on invisible waves of magic to close the distance between him and the immense monstrosity. In a blur of white, Rajmael dashed between both the giant's legs, his sword cut through both the tree-like limbs and severed the thing's legs right at the ankles. The giant screamed in thunderous agony as it fell backwards on the stumps where its feet used to be, thick ropes of blood spurting from its severed veins and arteries. The sound of thunder clapped and the whole ruin shook when the giant's body slammed to the ground. A wet, sloppy crunch echoed throughout the keep when the column it was carrying fell right on the giant's head, and crushed it like an egg. The shattered bits of the giant's skull and brains were scattered everywhere and its blood soaked the snow, turning it into a vile smelling red slush.
With these Templars dead, and this giant now a ruined mess all over the fortress floors, they now only had one obstacle left. The demon, Imshael.
XoXoXo
Iron Bull kicked down the final door with all his might, knocking it right off its hinges and flattening the sorry Templars that were standing on the other side. They reached the top of the Suledin Keep. From this snow-covered ruin they could see all of the Emprise du Lion. There were over a dozen Templars standing here, but they did nothing. They just stood there like they were in some kind of trance. What was going on?
"Ah, and here you are at last. What took you so long, Michel? Too busy ruining more people's lives?" Asked a gleefully sardonic voice. They looked over to the center of the floor and found the owner of that voice.
"Imshael." Ser Michel said the voice with hate and disgust.
This was the demon, Imshael? It had taken the form of a regular human, lean with brown hair and very...average features. Except perhaps for those extremely dark, sunken eyes. It was trying very hard to make itself seem normal as opposed to dangerous. Too normal.
"Ah." The demon started. "So you're the Herald of Andraste, no?"
"I'm the Herald of Andraste, no." Rajmael retorted. Rajmael cautiously walked around the demon, dragging the blade of his sword behind him, and never taking his eyes of the creature.
"Ooh, quite the wit you have."
"Enough talk, demon." Michel growled. "It's time to finish this."
"Choice. Spirit. Ser Michel. How many times do I have to repeat it?" Imshael sighed in frustration.
"Yeah, and a rose by any other name is still a little prick." Rajmael insinuated at the demon.
"It twists words to fit its own needs, hurts people instead of giving them what it promised, and laughs when it tricks them." Cole said with bitter anger. "Inquisitor, we have to kill it now."
"I'm with the kid on this one, Boss. Let's waste this freak." Iron Bull agreed.
"Be careful. Spirits such as this are not to be underestimated." Solas warned.
"My such violent...companions you have here, Inquisitor." Imshael laughed. "Ser Michel is quit the violent little one, you know. I find it a little odd that a proud Dalish tribesman would so willing to aid him. Would you like to know how many elves this man has killed?"
"Be Silent!" Michel demanded. "Inquisitor, we must kill this creature now!"
"There was that one chimney-sweep you killed when he was on his way home from the tavern. Plunged his sword so deep into his chest the blade was sticking out of his back." Imshael revealed. "Then he and his fellow Chevalier graduates chased down a whole group of them trying to get home. It took hours to clean all the blood off himself. Not to mention all the Dalish of Clan Vhirnen is completely wiped out thanks to his actions! Well...most of them any way, I didn't bother to take my time with the children..."
Rajmael's knuckles were white from gripping his sword in anger, but he never took his eyes off Imshael. The Choice Spirit smiled gleefully knowing the anger and hate the Inquisitor had for Chevaliers.
"Inquisitor, please!" Ser Michel pleaded. But Rajmael ignored him.
"Now, here's my proposal, if you'll hear me out." The demon pleaded waving his hands. "True to my nature I can give you a choice."
"Don't listen to it, Inquisitor!" the chevalier beseeched. "It will only use you for it's own ends."
"Quite, Michel! The adults are talking." The demon sneered at the knight with a devious smile. "Here's my proposal, Herald; You let me go and let me kill Ser Michel here, and I will increase the magical power you have right now a hundered times over!"
"No." The Inquisitor answered simply, still circling around Imshael with his sword dragging behind him.
"What, that's it?" The desire demon asked. "Not even going take time to consider it?"
"No need." Rajmael confirmed. "I'm already more powerful than you could possibly know. All you are is a parasite that thrives off the temptations and suffering you cause people."
"Hey! I'm not the bad guy here." Imshael denied. "These people all chose to be here. And I'm giving you the option to come out on top of this situation."
Rajmael ceased circling around Imshael and planted his sword into the ground, glaring at it with hate in his eyes. "You come to this world, and destroy the lives of entire people's merely for your own entertainment, then you seek to buy my mercy with temptation? You're not leaving this place alive, demon!"
"Choice! Spirit!" Imshael raged. "Fuck this noise! If you won't choose this, then you choose to die!" A flash blinding bright of light exploded around Imshael, and the demon stepped forth revealing its true form, that of a Desire Demon. His skin dark as twilight, cracked with black ichor seeping out. Long black claws, a long scorpion-like tail, deep, pale eyes. And a crown of horn burning with black fire sat above his brow.
"Remember, Inquisitor, you made this choice!" Imshael charged the Inquisitor with his claws burning with black flame with the intent to rip the elf to shreds.
"Mana, Elgar! Ar in'ara ne asan!" Rajmael yelled, and Imshael slammed against what must have been an invisible wall just inches in front of the Inquisitor.
The demon shook its head and clawed against the invisible wall in front of it. Imshael scratched and attacked the invisible barrier with his claws and magic, and found he was trapped inside some kind of trap. Then everyone realized that when Rajmael was circling around Imshael he must have set up some kind of spell.
"What is this!?" Imshael demanded as he raged against the barrier holding him.
"I set up a binding circle around you while you were jacking your jaw like an asshole." Rajmael answered sardonically. Everyone casted their attention and saw the now glowing runes the circled around the demon where Rajmael had dragged his sword. "And this particular binding circle is taught by the mages of my clan to be used on those who are possessed. To exorcise them, and slay the demons."
"Robbing a Choice Spirit of any kind of choice. That's low." Imshael condemned. "And they call me a demon."
"You chose to kill everyone in Clan Vhirnen, and you chose to destroy the lives of the people of Sahrnia. You deserve a fate worse than this...but it will have to do." Rajmael struck the tip of his sword into the ground and the runes surrounding the demon lit up with white light. Imshael screamed as a storm of green lightning and white fire blazed inside the barrier, burning and striking the demon, reducing it to ash.
"Aaargh! I was just getting started!" Imshael screamed and finally erupted into a ash and smoke, the Choice Spirit was destroyed and banished to the farthest reaches of the Fade. And with him no longer around to grow the red lyrium sustaining them, the Red Templars all dropped dead.
"At long last, it is over. The demon is slain and Sarhnia is safe." Ser Michel de Chevin breathed a deep sigh of relief. The former Chevalier looked over to the Inquisitor with hope in his eyes. "With Imshael dead, I find myself in search of a new cause. I would be honored to lend my sword to the Inquisition."
Vivienne, Cassandra, and Blackwall both thought it was a good idea to have an experienced knight and player of The Game in their service. But Rajmael had reservations against Chevaliers as a matter of principal.
"Before I even consider accepting you into the ranks of the Inquisition, I want you to answer me something, Michel de Chevin. And if I even think that you're lying to me, I will kill you." Rajmael's hand wrapped around the grip of his sword, ready to make good on his promise. "How could an Orlesian elf-blooded shit like you become a Chevalier and the empress' personal bodyguard?"
"H-how...how could you know that?" Michel de Chevin was completely stunned.
"That doesn't really matter, now does it? What matters is that I know, and I want my question answered."
"I suppose their is not point in hiding my past any longer." Michel sighed in defeat. "Yes, I am a bastard son of a elven woman and a peasant. After my mother died I was taken in by Comte Bevin de Chalons and he fabricated my lineage so that I may join the Academie de Chevalier. And it was there I learned what honor truly is, and I made more of a life for myself there than I would have anywhere else. But I had to keep my true lineage a secret least I be discarded simply for the state of my birth. Eventually, I proved worthy enough to serve as Empress Celene's bodyguard."
For the first time ever, Rajmael and Sera were of one mind in their regard for something. Michel's story did not move Rajmael. If anything, it only served to piss him off.
"Take a good look at me, Chevalier." The Inquisitor ordered spitefully. "Has it escaped your notice that I am an elf?"
"No, it has not, Your Worship."
"Then what makes you think I, an elf, would ever want to accept you, a Chevalier, worse, an elf-blooded Chevalier, who murdered elves in the alienage just to test your fucking swords as an initiation? Why should I allow a murderer and a liar join our ranks?"
"My dear, please, do be practical..."
"Vivienne, please, do shut up." Rajmael ordered.
"Yeah! We don't need pricks like them lumping with us." Sera spouted.
"You allow thieves, mercenaries, shady businessmen and even condemned killers to join our ranks, but you will not let a proven knight and veteran of the Game to willingly aid you? It seems counterproductive, dear." Vivienne reasoned.
"How often do guys like him just show up at your doorstep, Boss?" Iron Bull asked. "He's got skill, knows Orlesians and their bullshit, and he's eager to join. Might not want to pass someone like him up."
"I get it. You're an elf and he's a Chevalier; you've got every right to hate this man's guts. Chevaliers have earned their reputation for being bastards." Blackwall admitted. "But not every soldier and knight has the option of walking a clear cut path between good and bad. Sometimes we all do terrible things to get by, or because duty demands it."
Rajmael really hated to admit it, but his companions...had valid points. Rajmael hated Chevaliers as a rule, but Ser Michel had risked his life for the people of Sarhnia to slay Imshael, and he was willing to pledge his sword and service to an elf. But Rajmael was not going to just look over his transgressions against elves. "Very well, Ser Michel. I'll accept your sword and service. But first, you might want to get that bruise looked at."
"What bruise?"
Rajmael's fist was planted square into de Chevin's jaw, the force was so strong it sent him flying back several feet, and would leave him dizzy for a week. "Welcome to the Inquisition."
Rajmael and his companions gathered any and all information they could find here. Reports on the Templars' movements, shipping manifests telling where they were sending the Red Lyrium, and even alchemical formulas on the use of red lyrium. There were even orders and notes written by Samson's own hand. But most of all, a ciphered map detailing where Samson himself might be. This could be the breakthrough they've been looking for. They claimed the Keep, and prepared to make their way back to Skyhold, Cullen would need to see all that they've discovered. But first, there was one more loose end to tie up back in Sarhnia...
The Village of Sahrnia...
The Inquisition's presence and actions here had a most profound effect on the village. They had brought in some desperately needed necessities and food to the citizens, many were overcome with joy to have their friends and family return to them safe from the quarry. Rajmael and his entourage approached Lady Poulin's ramshackle cottage with a small contingency of Inquisition soldiers.
"Oh! Blessings on you, and the Inquisition. I prayed so hard that you would succeed." The noblewoman praised.
"You should have kept those prayers." Rajmael stated less than pleased. "You lied to my face, Poulin. You took the Red Templars' gold in exchange for the villagers to work that fucking quarry!"
"Yes, I took there gold. Gold and any supplies they could give." Lady Poulin admitted. "There are many orphans here in Sarhnia. Who protected them when their parents were killed? We couldn't run with the ice and the demons plaguing this land, and if I protested they would have killed me and taken the villagers anyway. All I could do was try to save as many as I could, and pray that someone like you would come and destroy them. All we could do was try to survive until that day, and that day has come. I was right."
"You still lied about what happened here, and hid your involvement with the Red Templars. You trying to cover up your guilt." Cassandra stated.
"Those people were taken and infected with Red Lyrium, a fate worse than death or starvation. You didn't protect them, you sent them to their graves." Rajmael said damningly while he b bitterly remembered euthanizing little Lina.
"What was I supposed to do? Grab the old pitchfork and lead the starving people of Sarhnia against the Templars? We are farmers, not soldiers, there was no way we could fight the Templars without all of us dying." Poulin defended.
"Regardless of your reasoning, for good or ill, your actions aided the Red Templars in their war against the world and led to the brutal deaths of all those you were supposed to protect." Rajmael denounced. "Mistress Poulin, your are under arrest for the crimes of aiding and abetting the Red Templars, participating in the heinous crime of slavery, and your crimes against the people of Sarhnia. You will be taken to Skyhold for your pending judgment."
Rajmael motioned his soldiers to take the noblewoman. She offered no resistance. With everything here taken care of, Rajmael and the others prepared to leave for Skyhold. Cullen needed to learn everything they had learned. With any luck, they could find Samson and destroy him, and the Elder One's army of Red Templars.
Skyhold
Rajmael was now sitting in Cullen's office and his commander was reading over the reports Samson had left and the former Templar had a look of absolute disgust on his face.
"All this time I tried convincing myself that Samson was trying to serve a righteous cause." Cullen said angrily. "But this? There's no reason good enough! I knew Samson had fallen low, but I can't understand how he could do all of this and for Corypheus!"
Rajmael shared Cullen's glower. "Somehow I doubt enslaving people and using them as fodder to create corrupted armor was in the Templar's job description."
"It's more than just that." Cullen stated with a voice filled with forlorn and anger. "Samson knows that red lyrium will turn Templars who consume it into monsters, but he's having them do it anyway. So many good men and women are following him, trusting him, and he is turning them into battle fodder, all for the sake of his own vanity."
Rajmael could see the anguish in Cullen, he didn't know how to assuage it, but perhaps the could still get justice for Samson had done, for the Templars he betrayed and for the people he murdered.
"I'm also concerned about what this...vessel is." Rajmael remembered. "What does he mean that his armor will make him Corypheus' vessel?"
"Maybe it's a Venatori rank?" Cullen guessed.
"Or something really, really bad." Dagna piped in unexpectedly. The red-headed dwarf appeared out of nowhere surprising both the Inquisitor and the General. "Um, I know I should've knocked first, but with what I have discovered I just couldn't help myself!"
"Have you discovered something, Arcanist?" Cullen addressed formally.
"Oh, like you wouldn't believe!" Dagna half exclaimed and half giggled. "This red lyrium stuff, it's alive!"
"What?" Rajmael asked. "How can that be? Lyrium is a natural element that connects us to the fade, how can this red stuff be...alive?"
"Well, I haven't figured that part out yet but it has something to do with the corruption." Dagna explained. "That's the reason why it makes the Red Templars have all of these amazing abilities, it's like when the corruption creates darkspawn. Y'know, like how Hurlock's are all stronger and more resilient than humans yet are all diseased and icky."
"Just like Meredith." Cullen recalled. "She wielded a great sword made of Red Lyirum and it enhanced her physical abilities beyond measure and also gave her the ability to animate statues. But it eventually drove her insane over a period of years, why is it Samson wears a suit of armor and wields the same weapon of Red Lyrium and is still functional?"
"I wondered that too." Dagna admitted. "At most he should be a monster like the other Red Templars, or at least he should be dead. That's when I realized that it's how his armor was made. His armor was made specifically not to affect him, and it's probably the armor itself that's keeping his lyrium addiction at bay. Whoever made his armor must a real genius."
"Maddox..." Cullen realized. "It must be Maddox that is making his armor."
"Who and what's a Maddox?" Rajmael asked.
A look of guilt washed over Cullen's face. "He's a bit of both actually, depending on who you ask. Do you remember how I told that Samson was cast out of the order for delivering a mage's letters to his sweetheart? Maddox was that mage. Samson was removed from being a Templar and Maddox was made Tranquil."
"He was made tranquil just for something as trivial as that?" Rajmael inquired.
"Meredith wielded the brand for much lesser offences, trust me." Cullen admitted ruefully. "After Maddox was made tranquil he became a smith for the circle, and the things he made were incredible. A genius savant. When the Circle was destroyed I thought Maddox was killed in the fighting or eking a living on the streets, but I guess Samson must've rescued him and is using him to make that armor of his."
"Samson will be keeping Maddox close at hand, so he must be wherever Samson's be is. We need to find Samson's base of operations and destroy it." The Inquisitor declared. "It will relieve Samson and his Templars of what's left of his lyrium supply and if we were to capture Maddox, Samson will no longer be able to maintain his armor."
Cullen nodded in agreement. "Leliana should have a report on where his base is very soon. Inquisitor, when you go after him I want to be there, for obvious reasons."
Rajmael nodded his head in agreement. A short time later Leliana and her agents had deciphered the map that led to Samson's base of operations. An ancient temple in the Free Marches that was once a place of worship to the Tevinter God of Silence, Dumat.
The Shrine of Dumat
The Shrine of Dumat was an ominous place, not in terms of it being large, but it was dark and foreboding, Rajmael and his companions, even those who were not mages, could feel the power and magic of this place. The Shrine stood on a seaside cliff, as if to watch what was beyond the sea. Like most ancient Tevinter ruins it was adorned with dragon statues, these one's in particular, however, were facing down with their jaws sealed tightly shut. They looked like sentinels looking down on the mortals in grim judgment, fitting for a place dedicated to the Dragon of Silence.
The place would be a sight to behold if the Inquisitor and his forces weren't turning the place into a killing field and painting the walls with the blood of Red Templars. What was once dark is now burning bright, from both the red lyrium growing in abundance here and an inferno was now burning away all that was housed here. Red Templars now lay dead all of the ancient floor, their blood washing over the mosaics that decorated the floor. Rajmael had to admit, Cullen's martial prowess was very impressive, of course he wouldn't be the general of the Inquisition's armies if he was a slouch.
"Charming place." Dorian commented sarcastically. "I can see why the ancient Tevinters abandoned this place, so dismal."
"You can tell this place is old Tevinter." Iron Bull half joked. "This place just reeks of arrogance. Even after thousands of years their architecture remains the same."
"Hm, if you can take away the red lyrium and all of the dead bodies you can still see the majesty of this place." Replied Vivienne.
"Yeah, right!" Exclaimed Sera. "This place looks like the bottom of a backed up privy!"
"They came here to offer their prayers." Cole replied. "Something watched, and something listened. It whispered things to them, until it didn't."
"Well, that just plain creepy." Varric shuddered.
"The Ancient Tevinters used to us this place to meditate and offer their prayers, and sacrifices to Dumat, the God of Silence." Solas explained
"We came her for a reason." Cassandra reminded. "Let's concentrate on the matter at hand."
"I'm with Cassandra." Cullen agreed. "We need to find Maddox, apprehend him, before this place smolders to the ground."
When they entered the inner sanctum of the temple only a token force was their to meet them and much of place was already set ablaze. Smoke filled the air, and it felt as though they were baking in an oven. And just like anywhere else the Red Templars tainted with their profane existence, there were massive columns and boulders of pure red lyrium growing from the very walls. The Inquisitor and his companions made quick work of them all but Cullen seemed less the pleased.
"Damn it all!" The former Templar cursed. "Samson must've known we were coming and put this place to the torch."
Shit. That means anything useful they might have found could already be destroyed.
"We need to find this Maddox quickly and get of out here." Rajmael said.
The Inquisition continued to look through the temple. Quickly. Finally they found a strange room towards the back of the temple. It had unrefined red lyrium just sitting all over the floor, strange apparatus', alchemical sets and many strange tools were laid around. This room seemed like a mix between an alchemical lab and smithy. And lying with his back on the wall was a bald, young man with sunburst stamped right on his forehead.
"Maddox." Cullen addressed. "Samson's Tranquil."
"Hello, Commander Cullen. And you must be the Inquisitor." Maddox greeted in the polite, emotionless tone of the Tranquil. "Many here did not believe the Herald of Andraste was a Dalish elf."
"Yeah, nice to meet you too, creepy. Would you mind telling us where Samson is before this place goes up in smoke?"
"Inquisitor, something's wrong with him." Cullen pointed out. "I'll call for the healers..."
"That will not be necessary, Knight-Captain Cullen. I've already consumed an entire vial nightcap essence. I will be dead soon." Maddox revealed calmly.
They were all taken aback by all this.
"Why would you do such a thing?" Cassandra asked in shock.
"We all agreed it was for the best. I destroyed the camp with fire, along with all my research notes. Our deaths would ensure Samson's escape." Maddox answered.
"Why?" Cullen asked, aghast. "Why would you do all of this? For Samson!?"
"Samson was the one who rescued me after the Circle was destroyed." Maddox explained calmly. "Samson gathered us all and gave us a new purpose, to aid Corypheus to make a new world, one were the Chantry would no longer have power over us and disregard us after being abused."
So Samson was giving all of these once proud men and women a chance that the Chantry denied them; a purpose. The truth now is the are all now fodder for the ambitions of Corypheus and Samson knows that. Samson is doing the exact same thing the Chantry did to him, he's just too vain and self-righteous to realize that.
"Maddox..." Rajmael addressed. "Where is Samson now?"
"Far away." Maddox replied weakly. "The fires will soon destroy all traces here but Samson left something for you, Cullen." Maddox pointed to the tables where a piece of paper was waiting for. "I...wanted...to help..." and with that last breath, the Tranquil expired.
Cullen went to go see what was left for him while Rajmael looked over Maddox's body. Ultimately Rajmael felt pity for the former mage; he was made tranquil just for being in love, then he was used as a tool for the Templars and a tool again for Samson and the saddest part was he thought it was for a good cause, when Corypheus' purpose was something...terrifying.
"What did you find, Cullen?" Cassandra asked.
"A letter addressed to me. From Samson." Cullen replied while looking at the letter and read it allowed. "The Chantry used us, just as you are being used...Corypheus chose me as his General and his Vessel...Your fighting for the wrong side." Cullen scowled angrily and tore the letter in two. "Says the man that uses men, women, and children as energy fuel."
The fires blazed around them, soon this temple would be smoldering pile of kindling. If there was anything to be found, they needed to find it fast. But what was left? Maddox destroyed all his research notes.
"Inquisitor." Cole called. He was holding a chest full of strange tools and apparatuses. Some kind of forging equipment? "Fingers hurting, eyes stinging. Must be careful, must be perfect. There must be no flaw in Samson's armor, or it will be useless."
"Those are lyrium forging impliments, of a unique design." Dorian pointed out, rather impressed. "Intact, they'd be worth a fortune."
"Looks like they're based off of Paragon Branka's design, but with some modifications." Varric added.
"Those must be the tools that Maddox used to craft Samson's armor." Cullen surmised. "The Tranquil will often custom make their own tools for specific purposes. Perhaps Dagna can make sense of them. Maybe she can find a way to reverse engineer them and come up with away to unmake Samson's armor."
"If that's all we can salvage, then I suggest we get out of here, and fast. Before we're all cooked in here like a baker's dozen." Blackwall suggested.
The Warden's suggestion was a sound one. As they made their way out, Rajmael noticed that one of the Templars they attacked wasn't quite dead yet. He was bleeding bad, but not mortally, and crawled to his feet coughing up blood.
"Please...Please help me." The Templar begged.
"Wait. I know him. It's Ser Karras, he and I served together back in Kirkwall. He was one of Meredith's most loyal, and cruel subordinates." Cullen recounted.
"Yeah, I remember this asshole." Varric said angrily. "Blondie used to tell me how much this guy liked to bully mages, and even volunteered to do the Rite of Tranquility on mages with Ser Alrik. He was on Hawke's shit-list for how he treated Bethany."
"Please, you have to help me." The Templar begged. "I...I can give you information on Samson."
"What do you think Inquisitor?" Cullen asked.
Rajmael remembered that little girl from the Sarhnia, Lina. How many other children met that horrible fate? How many more were suffering right now because of Samson's, and this Karras, and their devotion to Corypheus. All the cruelties and atrocities that they inflicted on others for their own gratification, for their own greed and hatred. He swore to Elgar'nan that Samson would meet a terrible end, after he sent The Elder One into the deepest, darkest reaches of the, most pit in the Beyond. But first, he'd deal with this sniveling putz.
Rajmael grabbed the wounded Karras by the neck in his powerful grip, and dragged him over to a nearby slab in the middle of the burning room.
"No! W-what are you doing?!" Karras demanded. Rajmael silently slammed him on to the black stone slab, then strapped him to it with the attached chains. "What in the Maker's name are you doing!?"
"No point in calling for the Maker here, seeing as how this is Dumat's temple. And this is his altar. Try praying to him, maybe he'll help you out." Rajmael informed. Everyone took a step back and noticed the massive draconian statue of the Old God of Silence standing above the Templar. That was no mere slab he was strapped to: it was a sacrificial altar. Rajmael turned around and walked away, leaving the Templar to be roasted alive in this burning temple.
"NO! You knife-eared bastard! Come back here!" Karras vainly stuggled against his chains as the fire blazed around him. "The Elder One will curse you. You elf-mage, son of a bitch!"
"You're the first person to be sacrificed in this temple in over two thousand years. Be honored." The Inquisitor called back as they left the building. The sound of Karras' screams as the fires consumed him, blackened his flesh, burnt his hair and melted his face, filled Rajmael with a righteous sense of vindication. After what these men did to people like Lina, and the villagers of Sarhnia, and what they would have done to the world, men like Karras deserved a worse fate than this. But it was a good start.
Back at Skyhold...
Cullen and Rajmael met back in Cullen's office, looking over their findings, and victory against the Elder One.
"With his base of operations destroyed and your success in Sarhnia, we've dealt a crippling blow to Corypheus. Samson can no longer give his soldiers a steady supply of lyrium, which will cripple them." Cullen commended. "We've cut the Red Templars to the core. Soon Corypheus won't have an army to stand on."
"That bastard Samson still got away." Rajmael gritted through his teeth.
"I feel your frustration, Inquisitor, I truly do. Maddox shouldn't have had to die for Samson, there was so much good he could have done. Samson didn't deserve Maddox's sacrifice." Cullen rued. "But this was a great victory, and with what we found in that temple could be the key to defeating Samson. With luck, Dagna will be able to find a chink in his armor."
"Tell Dagna that studying those tools and deciphering what we've discovered is her top priority. I want to know exactly where to plant my sword into Samson's body, and where it will hurt the most."
"As you command, Inquisitor."
Rajmael still could not shake Lina from his mind. The fact that he was forced to kill her to save her because of what the Templars did still gnawed at him, made his heart ache. What if he had been forced to do that to Eva? It would destroy him. Just as it was destroying the hearts and souls of thousands of parents and children, all because the likes of Samson and Corypheus. Rajmael looked into his soul and found his resolve renewed. He marched into the War Room, his other advisors waiting for him.
"Alright, someone give me something. I want to know how I can keep kicking Corypheus in the nuts."
"Actually, Inquisitor, you may get your wish. We already have something you'll want to hear." Josephine stated. The ambassador pointed to a tall human in his early forties with dark hair and a sharp hooked nose carrying a bow on his back. Accompanying him was a red-haired dwarf with a thick beard tied into two long knots, carrying a war hammer that was bigger than he was. A loud, disgusting belch erupted from the dwarf's gullet that reeked like stale alcohol and vomit.
"And who are you?" Rajmael asked curiously.
The human stood before The Inquisitor with respect. "My name is Nathaniel Howe. Warden-Commander of Order of The Grey in Ferelden. And I have news concerning The Champion of Kirkwall and Warden Stroud."
Language Codex:
Da'len: Elven, translates as "Little Child."
Lethanavir: Elven, roughly translates as "Friend of the Dead."
Mana, Elgar! Ar in'ara ne asan!: Elven incantation, roughly translates as "Stop Spirit! I bind you to this place!"
Enasalin: Elven, translates as "Victory."
Author's Note:
Sorry for the wait. Been busy lately, and the 4th of July weekend was pretty distracting. Now we got some familiar faces showing up, and I promise you're going to be seeing more in the upcoming chapters. Please review. All rights and ownership belongs to BioWare.