Inquisition forces charged Adamant fortress on a quiet, clear night. Once the attack began, the silence was forcibly evicted in favor of the echoes of shouting, metal clanging, arrows flying, and trebuches firing, all which lasted for hours on end. Commander Cullen oversaw the troops as they worked to breach the fortress. They fired trebuches at the fortress and balanced ladders against the walls of the fortress to give Inquisition soldiers access to the battlements. Meanwhile, a party moved a battering ram to the front gate, shepherded by soldiers carrying Inquisition banners or shields to keep them covered until they breached the gates. Several people were injured or killed in their attempts already, but the Inquisition wouldn't let their deaths be for nothing.
Once the gates were open, a wave of Inquisition soldiers rushed in to clear out the Wardens and demons immediately inside. Cullen ushered the Inquisitor, Marnie, Gale, Solas, Dorian, Cole, Iron Bull, and Sera through the cleared path.
"They have machines for everything!" Gale noted, stealing one last glace at the battering ram before joining the others in the fight.
When the Wardens and demons were driven back, Cullen approached Trevelyan.
"Alright, Inquisitor, you have our way in. Best make use of it. We'll keep the main host of demons occupied for as long as we can."
"I'll be fine," Trevelyan said. He had Gale to heal him and the others to protect him; he didn't risk being unprepared. Now they needed to reduce their losses as much as possible. "Just keep the men safe."
"We'll do what we have to, Inquisitor," Cullen replied. "Warden Stroud will guard your back. Hawke is with our soldiers on the battlements. He's assisting them until you arrive."
They look up as a demon threw a man from the battlements before turning around and disappearing from sight again.
"There's too much resistance on the walls," Cullen informed Trevelyan. "Our men on the ladders can't get a foothold! If you can clear out the enemies on the battlements, we'll cover your advance."
The layout of the fortress was nothing short of a maze of stairways, baileys, and balconies. The Inquisitor led the others through the fortress, fighting demons and bound Wardens as they went. They needed to thin out the enemy forces on the battlements and find Clarel, and they hadn't a moment to spare.
But they could spare people. Trevelyan reached a section of the lower bailey where a group of Wardens were standing by themselves. No demons in sight. When the Wardens saw the Inquisitor, they looked defensive, but not outwardly hostile. They drew their weapons, but Trevelyan gave them a way out. It was clear they weren't planning on going up against the group if they could help it.
"The Inquisition is here to stop Clarel, not to kill Wardens," he said. "If you fall back, you won't be hurt."
"Alright, then," one of the Wardens agreed, sheathing his sword. "My men will stay back. We want no part of this."
Good. Trevelyan was already moving on again. They went up another staircase and passed through a few high-ceiling chambers. On the other side, the balcony opened to a wooden scaffolding that led to the battlements. The Wardens and demons were still fighting. Flaming rocks fired from the trebuches periodically crashed into the towers and battlements. The Warden's numbers were certainly being whittled away, but the Inquisition needed to make a more focused attack to get through.
Trevelyan and the others navigated around the rubble and made quick work of the demons and Wardens. Trevelyan and Iron Bull charged the largest enemies, Marnie and Cole tackled the lesser demons and enemy archers. Sera stayed back, loosing arrows at anyone who slipped through. Solas and Dorian cast spells both offensive and defensive for their comrades, standing on either side of Gale, who conjured healing spells to mend injuries and drive the demons back. Any fallen Wardens were resurrected for a short time before expiring for good.
Once the demon army on the battlements had been thinned out, Trevelyan found Hawke in the middle of a battle against a Warden and a kneeling pride demon.
"I thought your men could use some help up here," Hawke said, driving a killing blow across the Warden's chest.
"Resistance is heavier than we'd hoped," Trevelyan said. "We need to get to the center of the fortress."
"I'll see if I can get their attention," Hawke sprinted ahead of them down the length of the battlements.
"We must hurry!" Solas warned. "Our forces cannot stand against the demons for long!"
Hawke and Stroud did a fine job distracting the Wardens and demons, diverting their attention from the pathway as the Inquisition slipped by. Once the Inquisitor reached the gateway to the main courtyard, Hawke and Stroud broke free to join them once more.
"I stopped as many of them as I could," he said breathlessly. "Our forces are taking heavy losses against the demons, but we will hold, Inquisitor."
Trevelyan nodded then pushed the door open.
The main courtyard almost looked like a picture of serenity compared to the chaos of the rest of the fortress. A group of Warden mages were gathered in a loose circle around a Rift. Nearby, a group of Warden soldiers stood together, watching the scene warily. On an elevated platform that ran along the far side of the tower, Warden-Commander Clarel and Lord Erimond watched over the ritual. Clarel paced back and forth.
"Wardens," she called over the group. "We are betrayed by the very world we have sworn to protect."
Erimond stepped in front of her, stopping her in her path.
"The Inquisition is inside, Clarel. We have no time to stand in ceremony!"
Clarel gave him a disapproving look and shook her head. "These men and women are giving their lives, magister. That might mean little in Tevinter, but for the Wardens, it is a sacred duty."
The two stared at each other, their stony silence accompanied by the sounds of battle below. Another man joins them—an elder Warden. Clarel looked at the man with a sympathetic, almost sorrowful expression.
"It has been many long years, my friend," she greeted him.
The man knelt, holding a fist over his heart in a reverent salute. "Too many, Clarel. If my sword arm can no longer serve the Wardens, then my blood will have to do."
He stood, and Clarel circled to stand behind him, a blade already in her hand. She held the dagger under his chin, her expression unwavering. For whatever relation she had with the man, her next actions would torment her.
"It will."
She sliced his throat with a grimace, and the man fell forward, blood spewing from the wound.
Trevelyan and the others stepped forward. Erimond sneered.
"Stop them!" he snapped to the unoccupied Wardens. "We must complete the ritual."
Trevelyan signaled for his companions to hold their ground and their weapons for the time being. They all obeyed, still watching the opposition carefully, as the Inquisitor stepped farther into the courtyard.
"Clarel!" he yelled. "If you complete the ritual, you're doing exactly what Erimond wants!"
"What?" Erimond prompted. "Fighting the Blight? Keeping the world safe from darkspawn? Who wouldn't want that?"
Clarel raised an eyebrow to the Inquisitor. At least she didn't seem as zealous as Erimond at this point. He might be able to appeal to her.
"And yes, the ritual requires blood sacrifice," Erimond allowed. "Hate me for that if you must, but do not hate the Wardens for doing their duty."
"We make the sacrifices no one else will," Clarel added. "Our warriors die proudly for a world that will never thank them."
Stroud stepped forward. "And then your Tevinter ally binds the mages to Corypheus!"
Clarel's eyes widened. "Corypheus? But... he's dead."
"These people will say anything to shake your confidence, Clarel." Erimond leans closer to her.
Clarel deliberated the two accounts, dragging one hand down her face before finally giving in. At this point, they'd come too far to give it all up. "Bring it through."
Erimond smirked.
Below, the Warden mages began channeling green magic into the Rift. Trevelyan, Hawke, and Stroud stepped forward, as did the group of idling Wardens.
"Please," Hawke besought them. "I have seen more than my share of blood magic. It is never worth the cost!"
The Rift crackled and hissed like a pot boiling over. The shadow of doubt returned to Clarel's face, but Erimond interjected before she had time to speak.
"Be ready with the ritual, Clarel. The demon is truly worthy of your strength."
"Listen to me!" Trevelyan barked. "I have no quarrel with the Wardens! I have spared those I could. I don't want to kill you, but you're being used. And some of you know it, don't you?
One Warden speaks up. "The mages who've done the ritual? They're not right. they were my friends, but now they're like puppets on a string—"
"You cannot let fear sway your mind, Warden Chernoff!" Clarel interjected.
"He's not afraid," Hawke said. "You are. You're afraid that you ordered all these brave men and women to die for nothing."
"I honor your bravery," Stroud said. "My brothers and sisters. But this is not the way. You have been tricked."
The Wardens looked back at Clarel. Clarel looked at Erimond. She hadn't noticed Erimond draw his staff.
"Clarel, we have come so far," he said. "You're the only one who can do this."
Clarel gives him a wary look. Was this a threat? "Perhaps we could test the truth of these charges, to avoid more bloodshed."
Erimond sneered again. "Or perhaps I should bring in a more reliable ally."
He turned, knocked his staff on the ground. He yelled over the entire courtyard.
"My master thought you might come here, Inquisitor! He sent me this to welcome you!"
A high-pitched, feral growl echoes from the heavens. Marnie looked up. Corypheus's black dragon soared over the fortress. The dragon swooped low over the courtyard, breathing writhing red. It wasn't fire, it was more like a mist, or a magic.
The sight of the dragon was enough to make Clarel realize the truth in the Inquisitor's accusations. Why else would Erimond have a dragon? What other master could Erimond serve besides Corypheus? The dragon landed on a tower in front of them and flexed her wings with a low growl that rumbled through the stones of the fortress. Clarel looked between the dragon and her dead friend then finally to Erimond. She raised her staff, conjuring a bolt of lightening that sent Erimond sprawling forward on the ground. Clarel summoned more lightening that crackled at the tip of her staff. Erimond raised a hand to caution her.
"Clarel, wait..." his voice trembled.
Clarel stared him down. Then, before she lost her chance, she turned and launched the bolt of lightening towards the dragon. The impact was comparative to a small stone; it annoyed the dragon more than anything. The dragon hissed at Clarel; its breath was a red magic that writhed like flame and smoke. Clarel was thrown back by the force of the blow. The dragon leapt into the sky and circled overhead. Clarel recovered and got to her feet. The courtyard was now in complete chaos; demons had come through the Rift, but luckily, most of the Wardens were already fighting alongside the Inquisition.
"Help the Inquisitor!" Clarel commands, then she disappears after Erimond. She wouldn't let him get away with this, and his death would not be an act of mercy. She would see to that.
The Inquisition focused their efforts on a large pride demon that had come through; the Wardens handled a few lesser demons. With a concentrated effort from each of them, they made quick work of the demons. When the pride demon finally expired, Trevelyan led the others through the far exit into a new part of the fortress. They needed to find Clarel and ensure Erimond didn't get away again.
"Go higher," Cole said whenever they reached multiple paths.
Trevelyan did as Cole said. There were a few straggling demons on the stairs and battlements, but they were easy to deal with. When they were light enough, Iron Bull just grabbed them and threw them over the side of the wall. The dragon trailed after them the entire way, though whether she was tracking their progress or waiting to attack, nobody yet knew. Trevelyan's anxiety raised as they climbed. The fortress was mostly protected by railings and walls, so Trevelyan had been able to repress his fear of heights up until now, but now that they were getting so high with the dragon right behind them, the fear began to stick to his mind.
"We're okay."
He heard Cole's voice as if the spirit was speaking directly in his ear, but when he looked, no one else seemed to react. Cole gave Trevelyan a reassuring look. Gale trotted forward to walk between Trevelyan and the edge.
They found Clarel and Erimond at the very top of the fortress, destroying each other while the fruits of their efforts slowly burned and bled out beneath them. Neither of them would win this, no matter who survived and who didn't. Erimond cast a spell of lightening, but Clarel didn't even flinch as it harmlessly grazed the barrier she'd conjured around herself. Clarel stalked toward him, absolutely livid.
"You!" she growled. "You've destroyed the Grey Wardens!"
She cornered him against the open edge of the platform, casting lightening to push him farther and farther back. Erimond fell flat on his back. Clarel walked around him to stand between him and the edge of the platform. Erimond laughed weakly.
"You did that to yourself, you stupid bitch," he placed a hand on his side and struggled to stand. "All I did was dangle a little power before you eyes, and you couldn't wait to get your hands bloody."
Clarel shook her head, conjured lightening with her staff again. The blow sent him sliding several yards backwards. Erimond was now curled up on his side to protect himself. His skin and clothes were smoking. Clarel stalked closer to him, clutching her staff in one hand. She was going to kill him. She was going to end him, but first she was going to make sure he felt as broken and miserable as she.
Erimond still had the gall to speak. "You could have served a new god."
"I will never serve the Blight!" Clarel denied.
That's how the Inquisition found them. Just in time to take in the scene before the dragon landed right behind Clarel. The dragon snapped down on Clarel and flew high above while the others looked on in horror. The dragon landed on the tower behind them, shook her head, and flung Clarel onto the stone behind the Inquisitor. Miraculously, Clarel was still alive—mauled, but alive. Though with her injuries, she probably had minutes left.
The dragon slithered down from its perch onto the platform, pushing Trevelyan and the others back, back towards the broken edge of the platform. Trevelyan's stomach clenched at the idea of falling. They had to fight their way back inside where it was safe. Clarel weakly crawled after them, reciting her vow.
"In war, victory..."
The dragon was now indifferent to Clarel. Perfect. She only had one chance at this. She turned onto her back as the dragon began to overtake her.
"In peace, vigilance..."
Clarel raised her hand, conjuring a lightening spell. She wouldn't miss again. She just had to wait, just a moment. She couldn't survive this, but she could spend her last dying breath saving another, saving the right party, and that was enough for her. It had to be.
Trevelyan didn't dare look at the edge behind them. They were running out of places to go! And they were so high up that even the idea of looking over the edge made Trevelyan nauseous. His ears began to ring, loudly enough the he could barely hear the others as they asked him what they were supposed to do. He stared ahead, trying to find something to ground him. The tower, the dragon, Marnie—Marnie?!
The Arisen wasn't moving back with the others, she was frozen in place, staring straight up at the dragon as if in a trance. The two of them were only feet away from each other now.
"What is she doing?!" Trevelyan snapped. "Marnie, get back!"
The dragon arched its neck to look down at Marnie. The dragon's jaw moved as it spoke in a near-silent, unintelligible rumble. Marnie wasn't frozen because she was afraid, she was... captivated. For a moment, it looked like Marnie was going to talk back to the dragon. Gale broke away from the group and grabbed Marnie's arm, pulling her back just before the dragon coiled to strike. Just as the dragon prepared to lunge at the group, Clarel released the spell, sending bolts of electricity surging through the dragon's underbelly. The dragon fell sideways and slid forward over the edge of the tower, writhing and shrieking. The others ducked, dodging flailing limbs and dragging wings as the dragon passed over them, over the edge of the platform, and recovered just in time to sail unsteadily over the fortress. Trevelyan watched her for a moment before his attention was captured by the ground far below them. Just as he feared, the sight petrified the Inquisitor, as heights always had.
The stone beneath them trembled and broke apart. The ground was crumbling, the abyss below chasing them as they all scrambled backwards and began running towards the tower. Trevelyan could only crawl backwards. He couldn't feel his feet, he could only stare in terror at the edge. Move! He had to move! The sight of Stroud dangling over the edge finally snapped Trevelyan out of his catatonic state. Trevelyan shot forward—he wasn't sure where the sudden coordination or feeling in his limbs came from, but he wouldn't take it for granted. He pulled Stroud back up onto solid ground, and they both ran. They weren't far behind the others, they weren't far from the stable tower, they just had to last a few more moments!
The ground beneath Trevelyan's feet began to sink, and he had a dreadful feeling it wasn't his imagination this time. The ground beneath their feet caved, and they were falling alongside dust and rubble. Trevelyan was staring in the face of his worst fear. No, worse—he was living it. He had to act now. He barely had the time or the wherewithal to thrust his hand forward and open a Rift.
The Rift swallowed them up, and they could feel the change as they transitioned from standing in the real world and falling through the Fade. Trevelyan stared down at the ground, dreading the fatal impact, but seconds before he hit the ground, he began to float upwards again and flipped to fall towards a new surface, much more slowly this time. He hovered a couple inches above the ground until he reached out. It was as if the gravitational pull in this world, whatever it was, waited for Trevelyan's permission to take him. Trevelyan touched the ground with a timid finger. Then he fell like a dead weight. Trevelyan landed flat on his back on the ground with a grunt.
Trevelyan shook himself off and stood, taking in their new surroundings. The ground they stood on was solid rock, but there was something off about it. Pillars, spikes, and walls of stone characterized the terrain around and before them, creating a labyrinth of highs and lows between them and a distant but unmistakable Rift. Neither moon nor sun shone above them, but the sky was a dim, even plain of green. A cold, gentle breeze carried dust and ash overhead. Everything was bathed in green light, painting everything in a nauseatingly bleak tint. Being there felt like being underwater and atop the highest, driest peak. The air was humidly sticky yet simultaneously abrasive, like pins and needles in a numb limb. The air was stifling, yet Trevelyan's lungs felt lighter than air.
This place wasn't right. And they weren't supposed to be here.
"Where are we?" Stroud asked. He was standing on a pillar of stone perpendicular to the ground.
"We were falling," Hawke spoke. He stood almost completely upside down on the underside of another curving pillar. "Is this... are we dead? If this is the afterlife, the Chantry owes me an apology. This looks nothing like the Maker's bosom."
Solas stared into the distance at a Rift interrupting the misty green sky.
"No..." he breathed. "This is the Fade."