Chapter 28
Twisted
Author's note:
[Bonus update for this Friday]
Sick of Orzammar yet? Me too, but I really do get carried away sometimes when I'm writing. Also, thank you, Judy for the review: feedback is encouraged - don't be shy ;)
Disclaimer – I don't own Dragon Age or any of its characters
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"The bloody doors of Bownammar. I never thought I'd ever see these, you know?" Oghren breathed as we reached the Dead Trenches. A gigantic fortress stood ahead of us, on the other side of a canyon a quarter-mile wide, carved from the cave walls, the grand gates flanked by giant statues of steel-plated golems. I could sense taint far below, and a prickle of fear ran through me – there were tens of thousands of darkspawn down there, at the bottom of the gorge. I glanced back at Alistair, who had tensed as well.
I took a breath, forcing myself to calm down, nodding towards the bridge in the distance. "Well, now you get to attack the fortress with me," I said, giving the Dwarf a crooked grin as he looked up at me, narrowing his eyes at my cheery expression, and perhaps noticing the hint of strain in my tone.
"You're funny, Warden. Bleeding hilarious. Anyway, you'd better be ready to crack skulls once we get in there," Oghren replied scathingly, and I nodded. As we walked, I noticed the mutilated corpses of darkspawn lying around, still fresh, by the blood. Neria wrinkled her nose at the smell, gingerly nudging at a hurlock's severed head with the tip of her boot as she stepped over the body.
"Nothing subtle about what happened here. Someone enjoys killing these things," Zevran remarked, stepping over the same severed head, the beast's mouth still open in a silent shriek.
"Something had some fun with these darkspawn. No finesse in the cuts but I can't argue the results," Alistair added, looking around. The bodies were everywhere, and we had to tiptoe over them to find patches of actual cave floor between the corpses.
"The individual brutality here was unnecessary. These are not precision kills," Sten observed, indicating a genlock's gutted torso, all the limbs and head missing. I could feel all three of them looking at me, and I glanced back with a scowl, hands on my hips.
"What? At least I do it quickly! Maker's breath, you three, I'm not a savage," I retorted, shaking my head. I paused, sensing something strange. A shudder went through me at the vague familiarity, and my eyes darted around the cavern, searching for the source. "What was that?" I asked softly as I felt another shiver wrack through me, looking back at Alistair, who had sensed it too – it was a strange mix of primal fear and delight, the feelings so strained against each other that it was almost painful.
We walked over to the edge of the trench, looking down at the bottom; a sea of torches flowed through the canyon, each one held by a darkspawn. "There must be thousands of them. Hundreds of thousands," Wynne breathed, the others joining us. I let out a small, startled gasp, feeling a sharp pain in my head, and I stared to my left, sensing something approach. Sensing him approach.
"It…it's him," I breathed, my eyes wide as I saw the dark form coming towards us.
"Him…who?" Leliana asked warily, her voice full of dread as she guessed the answer. I shook my head, unable to speak as I stared at the approaching form.
There, through the darkness, the archdemon flew, his sweet, hypnotic voice echoing around the tunnels as he roared. While everyone else covered their ears, Alistair and I stared, strange tears of joy springing to our eyes and pouring down our faces, hearts fluttering with mixed euphoria and sheer terror; it felt as if my heart was going to burst from my chest, it was pounding so hard. We stood stock still as the archdemon landed on a precipice, across the canyon from us. It roared, breathing purple flames and speaking to the darkspawn that swarmed at the bottom of the trench.
An echoing cry came from below, and I nearly let out a roar myself, trembling with terror, yet quivering with excitement as my blood boiled. Suddenly, the dragon turned his gaze on us, meeting our eyes; Alistair and I were petrified, freezing as our blood turned to ice in our veins. The dragon roared, and my face went white – I couldn't understand what he was saying, but his tone was…almost mocking, as he looked at us. As if he were saying, 'this is the best you can do? Pathetic.'
As quickly as he had appeared, the archdemon was gone, flying away over the trenches, rallying the darkspawn below with his hypnotic voice. Alistair and I remained frozen to the spot, unable to move if we wanted; everything around us seemed distant and detached as we stared after the dragon. My heart ached with longing as he disappeared, nearly breaking with sadness as I wished for him to return and look upon us once more.
I felt a light hand tap my elbow and I nearly screamed, whipping out my knife as I spun around. "Sodding hell!"
"Maker's blood!" Alistair gasped beside me, hand at his blade as well. The others stared at us with wide eyes, seeing the tears that were still pouring down our faces.
"Ugh…sod, don't do that," I complained, hurriedly wiping my face and putting away my knife with trembling hands – I was shaking so hard that I missed the sheath three times, nearly cutting off my finger before Leliana gently placed her hand over mine, sliding the knife into the sheath for me.
"What was that?" she whispered, and I swallowed hard, trying to calm down.
"The archdemon," Alistair replied, his voice strained as he tried to control his fear.
"I do not think that is what she means," Sten remarked, watching the two of us carefully as we looked at one another.
"Yes. Why were you crying?" Zevran asked, looking warily in the direction the dragon had flown.
"Fear?" I tried, and the others gave us withering looks.
"Those were not tears shed from terror," Wynne remarked, crossing her arms and giving us a stern, no-nonsense look. Alistair looked at her guiltily, glancing back at me as I gave a small, defeated shrug.
"I guess there's no harm in telling them," I murmured, and he gave a short nod.
"Tell us what?" Neria asked.
"You know how Grey Wardens can sense the darkspawn, correct?" Alistair asked, and they nodded. "That's…not all there is. We…have a connection to them. To the archdemon," he explained. "We were…crying…because of its voice," he added, and the others looked startled.
"Its…voice? You were crying because a dragon roared?" Jowan asked doubtfully, and I shook my head.
"No, you don't understand. What you hear as a roar, we hear as a voice. A…a song. It creeps into your soul and tears at it, makes you want to become one with it… As if you will find completion and bliss within the…voice…" I trailed off, eyes narrowed and growing distant as I remembered the song.
"That's how the archdemon controls the darkspawn," Alistair said, snapping me out of my trance with a small shake of my shoulder. "Its voice hard to resist. The…taint in us makes it hard to resist."
"That is…a frightening thought," Wynne breathed, looking at us with concern.
"We should continue…before it comes back," I said, walking slowly until the shaking settled down.
oooo
I could hear shouting in the distance as we neared the bridge, the ancient structure spanning the length of the gorge. Battle-cries echoed off the walls, and I could see a company of Dwarves charging the bridge, clashing with darkspawn. "It's the Legion!" I exclaimed, spotting Kardol at the head of the group, leading the charge.
I leapt forward without a second thought, drawing my blade and cutting down the creatures as they fought against the Dwarves, the others joining in as well. I lost myself in the heat of battle, trying to push the enticing voice of the archdemon out of my mind as the darkspawn screeched around me. The Dwarves kept out of our way as we fought, and we kept out of theirs, cutting a bloody swath into the darkspawn ranks as we cleared the bridge, overwhelming the ogre that stood guard at the gates of the fortress as we all leapt on him.
"Atrast vala, Grey Warden. It's good to see you again," Kardol greeted me, once we had killed the last of the darkspawn. I nodded to him in reply, futilely wiping at the darkspawn blood on my face with a handkerchief, my clothing soaked with it. Maker, I feel so gross, I thought, cocking my head at his words – I wondered how he knew I was a Warden.
"You know I'm a Grey Warden?" I asked, wringing out the bloodied piece of cloth and tucking it into my pocket, shooing Olan away as he started sniffing at it.
"I recognize a fighter of darkspawn; it marks you," Kardol replied. "It's why we in the Legion of the Dead abandon our lives, so we can face them without fear. It's a sacrifice I understand Grey Wardens are familiar with," the Dwarf added.
"Adeline?" one of the Dwarves in the company spoke up, and I grinned, spotting Duran. He looked almost as I left him, if a little worn out, and was now sporting a set of blocky tattoos on his bare, muscular arms. He carried a heavy axe on his back, almost his height, and was wearing decent armor, instead of the half-plate we had salvaged from the darkspawn.
"Duran!" I smiled as the Dwarf swept me into a tight embrace, picking me up off the ground and swinging me around over his shoulder. "Oh put me down!" I laughed, hugging him back as he set me on my feet.
"Well if it isn't the exiled prince himself," Oghren remarked, and Duran glanced back at my company. Katja raised an eyebrow, recognizing Duran as well.
"Oghren? That you?" Duran laughed, and I glanced between the two.
"You know each other?" I asked, and Duran snorted.
"Gorim used to throw him out of the palace for calling my father a nug-licker," he explained, and I suppressed a laugh. He looked at the rest of our strange group, glancing up at me oddly. "Huh. For someone who said she wanted to get away from humans, you sure keep a lot of them around," he chuckled, and I rolled my eyes.
"Not all of them are so bad," I mumbled, crossing my arms. "Well, come here, let me introduce you all," I added, motioning for the others to join us. After introductions were made, Duran looked up at me again, stroking his beard thoughtfully.
"So what are you doing down here? Lose another expedition?" he teased, and I snorted.
"No. I need to find Paragon Branka," I replied simply, and his eyes widened in surprise. Kardol heard us talking, walking over and raising an eyebrow at me.
"Who put this dull idea in your head? We've got other things to worry about in Orzammar… Ah, now I see," the older Dwarf said, nodding in realization. "The deep lords in the Assembly can't make up their minds, so the pretenders need added influence. I get that right?" he asked, and I snorted.
"That's about it," I sighed, my muscles sore as the adrenalin from the battle wore off.
"Warden, you've got your work cut out for you. Paragon Branka is dead, everyone with sense knows it. Past our line, the darkspawn kill everything," Kardol replied, crossing his arms.
"Why hold back? You can obviously handle yourselves against them," I asked, referring to our fight.
"I'd gladly lead an assault through the Dead Trenches, but without an ass in the throne, we have no orders. I won't take fool's gold from a pretender. You want to go digging blind, you go right ahead," he shrugged and I nodded, watching as he went back to the rest of his company.
"Sorry. Kardol's a little harsh, but he's a good man, and a good leader," Duran replied softly, and I smiled.
"No, I get it – he's been fighting down here for years, I bet," I remarked.
"So…I hear it's Bhelen and Harrowmont fighting over the throne. Little brother is no doubt using every underhanded trick he can think of," Duran snorted, and I bit my lip, trying not to look at him guiltily. "Honestly though…he's what Orzammar needs. Stone forgive me, but it's true," he admitted, and I felt my eyes widen in surprise.
"But…he betrayed you," I murmured, and Duran shrugged.
"I don't forgive him. I can't forgive him – not for what he did. But I've enough sense to know that Orzammar needs someone that'll make progress, not isolate the city," Duran reasoned, and I smiled slightly. "And technically I'm dead – the Legion held my funeral last time we were in Orzammar," he added with a grin.
"I see pragmatism runs in the family," I chuckled, and he laughed.
"Hah! It skipped Trian, it seems – subtle as a rabid deepstalker, that one," he smiled, his eyes a little sad at the memory.
"It was good seeing you, Duran," I said, patting the Dwarf on the shoulder. I glanced down, seeing my old knife on his belt, and I grinned. "Aw, you kept my old knife?" I smiled, and he nodded, clasping my arm.
"Of course – I'll never forget my 'Mad Elf'," he laughed.
"Nor I my exiled prince," I smiled, massaging my sore shoulder as I turned, heading back towards the others. Kardol glanced over at us, watching us go as he cleaned darkspawn blood off of his weapon, snorting slightly and shaking his head.
"Let us know if you find any Paragons. You're as likely to find a dozen as one," Kardol remarked sarcastically, and I rolled my eyes. "And Warden, watch yourself. Drunks make poor allies," he added, seeing Oghren. The red-haired Dwarf glared at him, and I grabbed him by the shoulder as he opened his mouth to reply, giving him a stern look and shaking my head. He muttered darkly under his breath, but relented, following me as we rejoined the rest of the group.
"So how are we going to get past those gates?" I wondered, looking up at the impressively carved stone doors. "How does anyone open these? Is there a mechanism somewhere?" I asked, and the others wondered the same.
"Well, the darkspawn had to have come from somewhere. We should look around to the sides, to see if there's a tunnel they've made to get by," Alistair suggested, and I nodded, letting him lead the way. To the left of the gates, hidden behind one of the giant statues, we found a roughly-carved tunnel, looking like it had been clawed out of the stones. "Careful – there's a lot of them ahead," Alistair warned, glancing about cautiously as we entered the fortress.
oooo
The inside of the building was in ruin; there had once been a bridge straight across – a road used by soldiers when Orzammar still held this fort, perhaps – but all that remained were shattered bits of stone over deep chasms leading to pools of magma far below. We had to make our way through winding halls, constantly battling darkspawn as we tried to get through the fortress. There was something eerie about the place, but no one else seemed to notice – they were concentrating more on fighting the darkspawn that met us nearly every step of the way.
I felt a chill run up my back as I heard a voice in the distance, echoing hauntingly through the dark halls. It was soft and strained, and it crawled into my ears and frightened me more than the darkspawn ever could. "First day, they come and catch everyone." I stared around, searching for the source, but when I glanced at the others, it seemed that no one else had heard it.
"…did you hear that?" I murmured to Olan, whose shoulders had tensed, his ears twitching at the voice. He let out a low growl of acknowledgment, his fur bristling, and his lips pulled back in a snarl. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself as we made our way down a long hallway. Neria looked a bit twitchy as we continued down the halls, wrinkling her nose as if smelling something unpleasant – my nose had been long deadened to the smell of darkspawn by now, so I didn't pick up anything unusual.
"Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat…" the voice echoed again as we moved down the hall, and now the others glanced around, hearing it faintly.
"What was that?" Leliana asked, looking down the hallway.
"Nothing good," Sten muttered, his grip tightening on his sword's handle as more words drifted down the hall.
"Third day, the men are all gnawed on again… Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate…"
"That voice sends a chill up my spine. This place is troubled, to say the least," Alistair breathed, his shoulders tense. I gripped the handle of my blade nervously, thumb running over the woven silver designs.
"Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn… Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams…"
"Wait…I know that voice from somewhere, but it's changed. Wrong," Oghren muttered, narrowing his eyes as he tried to remember where he had heard the voice; I prayed that it wasn't one of his kin. The further down the hall we went, the darker it became as we moved away from the magma pits. The voice continued to echo eerily about, growing louder as we drew nearer to the source.
"Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew… Eighth day, we hated as she is violated…" The walls had a layer of a thick, fleshy substance, coated in boils and tumors – I felt sick looking at it, nearly vomiting as a boil burst nearby and spewed a thick, yellow puss across the floor.
"Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin…" the voice hitched slightly, deeply pained, and I felt a shudder go through me; the speaker was right nearby – just in the next room. "Now she does feast, as she's become the beast."
We rounded a corner, freezing – a Dwarf woman was kneeling among a pile of rotting flesh and bones, holding a skull in her hands and staring at it with blank eyes as she began her dirge anew. "First day, they come and catch everyone…"
"…Hespith?" Oghren asked, bewildered, and I looked at him with wide eyes. She must be one of his clan, then.
She paused, hearing Oghren, and perhaps sensing our approach. She had been beautiful at one time – her hair was messy and ragged, once a fair caramel, and her face was slim, but regal. Her skin was pulled taught across her cheekbones, and her eyes had heavy bags underneath. Her teeth were stained orange from eating flesh – I could smell blood on her breath, and see the death around her.
"What is this? An Elf? Exotic and impossible. Feeding time brings only kin and clan," she breathed, looking at me with dull, glazed eyes, her posture hunched and submissive as she stood. "I am cruel to myself. You are a dream of strangers' faces and open doors." She appeared to be suffering from a high fever, her skin pale, and covered in dark blotches.
"Is this darkspawn corruption? It looks…different," Alistair murmured, looking at the woman warily as her pain-glazed eyes remained fixed on me. She glanced up at the sound of his voice, nodding slowly.
"Corruption! The men did that! Their wounds festered and their minds left. They are like dogs, marched ahead, the first to die," she replied, staring at Alistair. She shuddered, hugging herself and staring at the ground. "Not us. Not me. Not Laryn. We are not cut. We are fed. Friends and flesh and blood and bile and…and…" she trailed off shutting her eyes and shivering. "All I could do was wish Laryn went first. I wished it upon her so that I would be spared. But I had to watch. I had to see the change. How do you endure that? How did Branka endure?" she whispered, and I felt a jolt of fear go through me. What had happened to this poor soul?
"What change? What are they doing?" I asked, my voice catching slightly with my fear, a chilling dread in the pit of my stomach.
"What they are allowed to do. What they think they must. And Branka… Her lover, and I could not turn her. Forgive her…but no, she cannot be forgiven. Not for what she did. Not for what she has become," the woman murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. I felt Oghren tensing next to me at her words, but he remained silent.
"What did she do, Hespith? What did Branka do?" I urged, and the woman shook her head.
"I will not speak of her! Of what she did, of what we have become! I will not turn! I will not become what I have seen! Not Laryn! Not Branka!" the woman said firmly, dashing past us into the tunnels. Once she had disappeared, we heard her voice echoing in the distance, repeating her chant once more from somewhere out of sight. "First day, they come and catch everyone…"
"There's worse to come. That woman, she's seen things a mortal mind can't grasp," Sten muttered quietly, looking down the hall Hespith had run.
"What she said…about a change…" I murmured, biting my lip. "What happened here?"
"…'tis nothing good, evidently," Morrigan replied, looking around at the piles of flesh and bone scattered throughout the room.
"I do not look forward to seeing what lies ahead," Wynne added, and I nodded in agreement.
oooo
We left the room, following the hallways until they gave way to tunnels once more, the roughly-hewn walls covered in scratches. I could sense darkspawn on the other side of the walls, back in the fort, but I ignored them, concentrating on the eerie feeling of being watched – Hespith must have been following us, lurking in the shadows. The thought of her spying on us disturbed me more than any darkspawn could.
"Branka became obsessed… That is the word, but it is not strong enough. Blessed Stone, there was nothing left in her but the Anvil…" Hespith's voice echoed eerily through the tunnels, and everyone tensed, looking around.
"Creators guide us through this darkness… Dread Wolf follow in my shadow," I heard Neria murmur, her fingers wrapping tightly over a carved bone charm that she wore around her neck.
"We tried to escape, but they found us. They took us all, turned us… The men, they kill…they're merciful. But the women, they want. They want to touch, to mold, to change until you are filled with them…" Hespith whispered, and I shivered, a cold pit forming in my stomach as we continued.
"Oh Stone…" Katja mumbled and covered her mouth, looking ill as we passed by more of the diseased, fleshy-looking substance on the walls.
"They took Laryn. They made her eat the others, our friends. She tore off her husband's face and drank his blood," Hespith breathed, and Leliana bit her lip, clutching her bow nervously. Even Morrigan looked disturbed, and hardly anything seemed to bother her. "And while she ate, she grew. She swelled and turned gray and she smelled like them. They remade her in their image. Then she made more of them…"
oOo
Something moved up ahead of the group, just outside of the tunnel. It was big – very big – and it reeked of death and rotting flesh; Adeline and Alistair felt chills running up and down their spines as they neared, the buzzing sensation in the backs of their heads nearly shrieking an alarm at the closeness of this giant darkspawn. "Broodmother…" Hespith whispered.
The creature was gigantic, bigger than an ogre, with sagging skin hanging all over its body and multiple rows of breasts hanging down its front, like a female dog. It seemed to be immobile – the back half of its body was round, shaped like the shell of a snail, with long, fleshy tentacles snaking out from underneath. The ground was soft and fleshy around the creature's base, making squishing sounds beneath their feet as the group walked forward. At the sight, Adeline felt bile rise in her throat, and she heaved, covering her mouth and forcing back the vomit. The others looked ill as well, their faces pale and their lips drawn tight as they set their jaws.
The creature sniffed the air and turned her beady eyes towards the group, shrieking and waving her tentacles around; a swarm of darkspawn was suddenly upon them, protecting the broodmother as she cried out. Adeline swore under her breath and drew her blades, the group moving into a circular formation, keeping the mages and archers in the center as the darkspawn advanced upon them.
The ensuing battle was hellish – the darkspawn came in seemingly endless waves from every direction; it was as if the entire fort had come at the broodmother's call, trying to overwhelm them. Their battle formation didn't hold for long, and soon the group became separated, battling the darkspawn in pairs or trios as they fought not to be overwhelmed. Adeline yelped as she was dragged off a short way from Zevran and Katja, and the two gritted their teeth as they cut through the waves of enemies, trying to get to her.
Fear tore through her, making her limbs stiffen painfully; she wouldn't let them take her – she wouldn't let them make her like Laryn. Adeline felt the darkspawn biting and scratching her arms and legs as she thrashed around frantically, their jagged claws tearing long gashes in her leggings and sleeves as they beat at her armor. They battered her around as they crushed the Elf with their bodies, piling on top of her to subdue the screaming girl. She stabbed wildly, shrieking and slashing at the beasts from her spot on the ground as they tore at her clothes, blood splattering the woman and getting into her eyes, blinding her as the blood and demonic ichor burned.
"Warden!" she could hear faintly, over the screams of the darkspawn, hearing glass shattering and the intense heat as Katja threw a fire grenade at the darkspawn. They shrieked, and the weight of the pile lessened slightly as a few turned to fight; Adeline took the opportunity and struggled out of the pile, squirming her shoulders as she squeezed out from between the bodies of scorched darkspawn. Zevran and Katja were fighting with their backs to her, holding off the darkspawn so that she could clamber free, but there were too many of them – the pair of rogues wouldn't last long without support from the warriors or mages.
Adeline felt something tighten around her leg, and was suddenly dragged out from under the pile of darkspawn, her sword wrenched from her grip as she hung upside-down in the air, swinging wildly. The broodmother had grabbed her ankle with one of her tentacles, and waved Adeline around like a ragdoll, using her body as a weapon against her own allies. The girl was thrown into Morrigan and Jowan, disrupting their spells, and then dragged back into the air and used to knock Olan off of a genlock as the hound tore out the darkspawn's throat.
Adeline heard the broodmother screech, and the Elf dropped like a stone as the tentacle holding her was severed; Sten stood at the base and caught her as she fell, setting her down carefully and placing a steadying hand on her back. "Thank you, Sten," Adeline managed, clutching at her middle; she didn't believe anything was broken, but her body was trembling in pain. Sten nodded quickly and suddenly thrust his blade behind him, impaling a hurlock that had tried to come up behind him while his back was turned. He guarded the Elf as she caught her breath, looking around at the battle.
She stared up at the broodmother as she screeched, looking back to see Leliana and Zevran climbing up the creature's body, stabbing at the thick neck and trying to kill it. Neria, Oghren and Alistair were slashing at tentacles nearby, switching their focus between the broodmother and the darkspawn that were still swarming into the room. "Watch the tentacles!" Adeline hollered up to the rogues, gasping as Leliana yelped with surprise, the creature slapping at her and throwing her off with one of the tentacles. She flew across the room, and Adeline ran after her to catch the girl, tripping over a dead darkspawn and crashing into her before she hit the ground, just barely softening the impact.
They rolled for a few feet before Adeline let out a hiss of pain. Leliana sat up quickly, staggering over to the girl. "Adeline!" Leliana cried as the Elf gasped for breath, clutching at her ribs – she had landed awkwardly on her side, and felt a muscle pulled taught along her ribcage before it started burning like hellfire. Zevran gave up stabbing at the broodmother's throat as she concentrated her barrage of tentacles on him, sliding down and guarding the mages with Sten as they began hurling spells at the darkspawn's head.
"Ugh, sod!" Adeline wheezed with each breath, her body shuddering in agony – it was hard to breathe, as if her lungs weren't filling up all the way, and she felt sharp pain along the lower parts of her ribcage when she moved. "I really screwed up this time," she choked out with a crooked smile, and Leliana made a face, stopping Adeline from trying to sit up.
"This isn't time for jokes, Adeline!" Leliana exclaimed, and the Elf gave a small, pained chuckle, cringing again as her ribs throbbed.
"Don't…don't turn your back…" Adeline gasped out ragged breaths, pointing behind Leliana, towards the darkspawn. The rogue turned around and lashed out with her hunting knife, catching a large shriek as it leapt for her. She staggered under the weight, falling to the ground as Adeline struggled to sit up and help. Leliana stabbed relentlessly at the darkspawn's chest, a gloved hand holding back the beast's angled head as it tried to snap at her. Gore splattered her terrified face, her mouth contorted in a grimace as she continued to stab into its chest and throat until the lanky darkspawn shuddered and fell dead at her side.
"Maker's breath," Leliana gasped, placing a hand over her heart – she had never faced an Alpha on her own, and it was the first time she had ever seen a shriek Alpha, besides. She turned back to look at Adeline, who was struggling to take in sharp, ragged breaths, foaming at the mouth as her eyes reddened with strain. "Wynne! She can't breathe!" Leliana called, fighting through the darkspawn toward Wynne and helping the old woman to her side. Katja had heard her words as well, standing by and taking darkspawn down with carefully placed shots to their heads.
"Look out!" Adeline hissed, drawing her red-steel knife and throwing it, hitting a genlock between the eyes as it got behind Wynne. Everything turned hazy and the room spun around her as her vision swam, the images spotted with red and black, sounds echoing in the distance as she grew dizzy from lack of air.
Adeline stared around the room – everyone was still fighting desperately, but they were losing; there were too many darkspawn, and as she watched, Alistair and Oghren were overwhelmed, and Morrigan, Zevran and Sten were barely keeping the creatures back. Neria roared and charged through a clump of darkspawn as they jumped on top of Jowan, and they swarmed about her as she swung her blade wildly. As Wynne healed Adeline, a shrieking drew Leliana and Olan's attention, and darkspawn leapt at them, tackling them down and scratching with long, deadly claws. Katja went down just as she threw a grenade, and it exploded, burning a large clump of darkspawn nearby. I can't…I can't let this happen. Not again. Never again.
The Elf sat up suddenly, ignoring the sharp pain and the dizziness and clenching her teeth as her blood boiled through her veins. She staggered to her feet, trembling in agony as she fought to breathe, a strange strength seeping into her body. A change came over Adeline as she felt her thoughts slow, coolness washing over her being. She was deadly silent, her senses heightened as everything around her became strikingly clear and sharp. She became angry, then, and let out a roar for everything to stop, the sound so loud that every darkspawn in the chamber turned to stare at her; they actually stopped what they were doing, letting out small hisses and growls as they looked on.
What stood before them wasn't an Elf – they could sense that much; its skin was pale, like death, and it smelled sharp and powerful and dangerous…but at the same time they wanted it. They wanted to touch this creature, as they wished to touch their master and feel the joy of his embrace. This not-Elf's eyes were green and piercing, its pupils narrow slits, and its hair seemed to move about on its own, like a roaring flame about the deathly calm face. They wanted those eyes – they wanted the green gaze to turn on them, to look upon them with favor. The creature took a slow step forward, and the darkspawn hissed and chattered softly in the quiet of the room, the only other sounds the faint whimpering of the broodmother, and the groans of the not-Elf's companions.
Adeline leapt forward, plowing into the creatures and tearing them apart with her bare hands, darkspawn limbs flying everywhere as blood splattered across her face and hair. It took the darkspawn a moment to realize that she was attacking them, and they screeched, clawing at the woman and swarming about her, trying to overwhelm this strange attacker. Adeline wrenched the creatures off her companions, helping them get to their feet before returning to the fray.
"By the ancestors!" Oghren shouted when he saw her, watching as the Elf tore the head off of a genlock, spraying blood across her face and hair. "Is that you, Warden?"
Adeline didn't answer him; her mind was hazed with pure rage, but her expression was a blank, emotionless mask. She grabbed a jagged splinter of bone from the ground, using it like a knife and stabbing any darkspawn that neared her. She wheezed, her sides heaving in pain as her injury caught up to her, her breaths shallow and ragged. Still, she fought on, slamming relentlessly into the darkspawn and dragging her companions back to their feet.
Her distraction allowed everyone to regain their positions, and the tide of the battle turned. As the number of darkspawn dwindled, Adeline charged for the broodmother, snarling and tearing at her as she clawed her way to the head, blood pouring down the creature's front as the Elf dragged the shard of bone across the darkspawn's skin, the creature howling in agony and rage.
The broodmother screamed, flailing at Adeline with her pudgy arms as the girl latched onto the thick skin around her throat, her nails digging into the soft flesh as the darkspawn beat at the Elf with long tentacles. One of them wrapped around Adeline, dragging her from the broodmother's throat as she clawed at the creature's face, the darkspawn shrieking in pain. Adeline stabbed the bone fragment deep into her neck, the broodmother gurgling and flailing about as she choked on her own blood. She threw Adeline across the room and the girl let out a yelp as she hit a wall, hearing a loud, alarming snap from her left arm on impact.
Adeline sank to the ground, landing in a heap and gasping for breath, her muscles twitching as she tried to move. Between the intense pain and the lack of air, her vision swam, and she struggled to her feet, wobbling dizzily and staggering, her sides heaving. She vomited, the yellow pool mixed orange as she spat up blood, shivering and breaking into a cold sweat. She managed to collect herself enough to limp over to the others as they stared up at the broodmother, the beast screeching pitifully as it died, and they looked further up to see Hespith standing on a tall ledge, high above the creature's head.
"That's where they come from," she said quietly, her voice strained. "That's why they hate us...that's why they need us. That's why they take us…that's why they feed us…" Hespith breathed, her dull eyes looking down at the broodmother in pain, shaking her head sadly and hugging herself. "But the true abomination…is not that it occurred, but that it was allowed. Branka…my love… The Stone has punished me, dream-friends. I am dying of something worse than death. Betrayal." At her final words, Hespith closed her eyes, holding her arms wide and falling down into the chasm behind her, letting the darkness take her.
"Well…that was intense…" Adeline muttered, collapsing in a heap, unable to breathe.
"Adeline!" Alistair yelled, running over and kneeling by the girl's side, not knowing how to help. She was curled up in a fetal position, blood and foam on her lips as she gasped for breath, and Alistair stared at her in fright, looking back at Wynne as the old woman hurried over.
"Nnn…left arm's broken…ribs too, maybe…" Adeline gasped, letting out a small wail of pain as she tried to move, shutting her eyes tightly.
"Shh…don't try to move," Alistair murmured, and Adeline slowly opened her eyes, looking up at him in agony. He took one of her hands as he sat by her side, gripping her fingers tightly and giving her hand an encouraging squeeze.
"Here, let me see to her," Wynne said gently, kneeling down and placing her hands lightly on Adeline's side, pressing on her ribs. She yelped, and Olan trotted over and sat by the Elf's head, whining softly and nuzzling her cheek.
Adeline let out a long sigh of relief, feeling Wynne's magic setting her ribs back into place, the pain fading. She sat up slowly, leaning against Alistair as Wynn tended to her arm, cringing as she inspected it. "Do you…have any idea what happened?" Adeline asked, gritting her teeth as Wynne slowly turned her arm over. She gripped Alistair's forearm tightly with her right hand, and he pressed his lips into her hair as she leaned back against him.
"No. That was…strange," Wynne remarked quietly, her magic soothing the girl's arm. "Here, I'll make a sling for you, but you shouldn't fight unless it is absolutely necessary," she added, wrapping Adeline's arm and hanging it in a sling. "What you did…you were tearing darkspawn apart with your bare hands," Wynne remarked, and Adeline nodded.
"Right. It's…it's like back in the tower, only I was lucid this time," she replied, puzzled. "And…Leliana, didn't something like this happen back in Dust Town? In the carta's hideout?" she added, and Leliana nodded. Adeline gritted her teeth as her arm pained her, trying to get up.
"You should rest while you can," Wynne said gently, and Adeline nodded, letting out a soft sigh and leaning back against Alistair, who wrapped his arms very delicately around her, resting his cheek against her left temple.
Oghren was staring at Adeline in silence, wondering what he had just seen; an Elf maiden had just torn the heads off of a swarm of darkspawn with her bare hands. In all his years, Oghren had seen some strange things, but nothing like that. He muttered something under his breath, glancing down at Olan as the hound trotted over to him, looking at the Dwarf with curious brown eyes. "Mad Elf indeed," the Dwarf mumbled, taking a long drink from his flask and letting out a belch, grinning as Morrigan hissed with distaste nearby.
"Is everyone else alright? That was brutal," Adeline asked, looking around at the others, who nodded. They had a few injuries, mostly cuts and bites from the darkspawn, as well as a few burns from Katja's stray grenades. As Wynne made her rounds, healing them, Alistair closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh and pressing his lips against Adeline's left temple, kissing her scar. "You okay?" the girl asked gently, looking up at him, and he nodded, his eyes going over her carefully, concern clear on his face. He ran a hand lightly along the Elf's jaw, letting out a small breath as she placed a hand over his.
"That could have gone much worse," he breathed, and she nodded grimly.
"What Hespith said, about the broodmother…and about Branka… Something very wrong is happening here," Adeline concluded.
"I think so too. How darkspawn are made… I never knew. I don't think many people do," he murmured, looking at the creature's grey body, the flesh hanging down lifelessly, blood dripping down around it.
"I'm beginning to wish I didn't know. It makes me shiver, thinking about what those poor women must have endured," Adeline whispered, closing her eyes and shaking her head slowly. Alistair gently moved his arm over her shoulder, careful not to press down on her broken arm as he turned her chin towards him. When she opened her eyes, he could see fear in them – she had been terrified during this battle, for she had seen what could happen if she, or any of their other female companions fell into darkspawn hands.
"We'll make it through this, Adeline. I promise," Alistair breathed, gently pressing his forehead against hers, and she sighed, looking at him with a sad smile.
"I hope so. I don't know how much more we can take, and we're nowhere close to being ready to face the archdemon," she whispered, closing her eyes as resting back against him as she tried to settle down her nervous shivering.
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So, funny story - I'm actually taking a class at university called Death and the Afterlife in literature, and it's meant to explore death and how those remaining deal with it. I thought it was hilarious in hindsight, given that some of the major themes of Dragon Age: Origins are death, grief and sacrifice. Just thought I'd share that.
