Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Dragonage or anything else I may reference
Magic and the Inquisition
Chapter 37 No Choice Given
Emprise Du Lion
"I do not like the look of that snow" Travelling down the road as quickly as possible, the power of modern technology powering an engine as the rubber wheels bit into the snow the magic placed upon the vehicle easily allowing it to deal with such conditions, the residents inside could only watch in a dull manner as the surroundings that had once been green slowly turned from that beautiful lush colour to the shrill ice that they now passed.
White could be seen all around them, the white of thick powdery snow as it lay across the ground luring people into areas that were deeper then it looked, the cold and cruel white of ice that lay in patches across the floor over large pools of water wherewith the wrong amount of weight a person could fall and be subsumed by the cold desolate area. There was also the white looks of those residents nearby as clutching their cold shivering bodies desperate for any sense of warmth, their pale gaunt features landed onto the recognisable vehicle of the Inquisition as it sped past them in all due haste.
"I wonder if magic is at play" Nat responded as he turned the car around a corner breaking into a bit of a small ravine. Ahead they could see the Inquisitions base camp, made all the obvious for the brilliant red, yellow and orange of firelight as it flickered in dance, fighting against the cool wind as it blew. As they approached forward the car coming slowly to a close, they saw as the other members of the inquisition looked over, some were in shock having never seen such a thing in their life however their commander, Scout Harding simply nodded.
When the car finally came to a full stop and the residents within disembarked, the local soldiers within sight stopped a moment their snow-encrusted eyebrows widening before a relaxed and almost relieved look was stretched across their face as they saw just who was among them. Gladly those troops who were once in their way, quickly moved over to the side and others who had witnessed the arrival quickly began to move into groups as small sets of wine were brought out and the men began making a small but noticeable toast, hefting their glasses to the second in command.
In the eyes of the men and women who served the inquisition, if the second in command was here personally, the Templars were as good as dead, and their duties in their cold land were at an end and if not it would be a lot easier then it was now
"Seem's your quite popular, just when exactly are you going to hand out with your fan's. I don't think I've ever seen so many cold men simply smile at the notice of a child." Dorian his voice rather amused at the grand amount of attention his friend was getting leaned forward his eyes full of mirth.
"You obviously haven't seen men in wartime during winter, the first moment they catch wind of a woman even if they're a girl, they behave as they've never seen one before" Blackwall shook his head, his thick black beard slightly helping to protect his cold frame even wrapped up[ as it was under his gambeson ever so slightly warm. "It doesn't end pretty. The lucky women who are either close to home or wander into the more restrained ones get off with some whistles and flirts, the unlucky ones, often find themselves being dragged off somewhere whilst they're sleeping"
"Don't worry Blackwall, I very much doubt these men are here for that purpose, and anyway they wouldn't live very long if they tried though I appreciate the sentiment. However, if you were trying to give a response you could have simply said a whore, not go into the story of some dark troubling event. No matter we're here now and there's Scout Harding, let's get this over with and get back"
"Lord Commander" Snapping her body into a bow and the proper Inquisition salute Harding greeted the group as always with that typical warm smile on her face as he small freckled form seemed out of odds with the cold snowy environment.
"Harding, I hope you're doing well, not too cold for you I take it?"
"It's a bit cold but nothing I'm not used to can get a little bland at times."
"Glad to hear of it, but id you need anything, don't hesitate to let me know, I'll make sure you're given what you want"
"I'll remember that, and thanks for the offer. Where is the Inquisitor, I thought she would have accompanied you. Oh and congratulations on your new title" She said cheerfully enjoying how all of a sudden out of nowhere and without warning her once cold body made somewhat worse by the metal that she wore to protect herself vanished in an instant was replaced by the most comfortable warm sensation ever as though she had just walked into the warmest of homes, the heat radiating off her, or like a great big warm hug. Turning her gaze upward she gave a thankful expression to the wizard as he then proceeded to hand her a cup of hot chocolate and cream on it. "You do treat me, whatever would the Inquisitor say if she saw us like this?"
"You deserve it, Harding, anyway, the Inquisitor isn't here, she's still wrapped up in paperwork and politics to emerge from the castle. As for the title, well they keep changing it every other day it seems. Cullen is technically meant to be the main commander, but I also technically outrank him for whatever that's worth. So I guess lord commander sounds better than General or commander, but less impressive then Inquisitor."
"It is a bit presumptuous on the name, but I guess it suits you well"
Blackwall added hiding his amusement at the name that had been thrown onto the boy and how much he seemed to dislike it.
"All I need now is a direwolf" Nat muttered as he proceeded to gaze out at the area around them. Emprise du lion was not much to look at. For the most part, what was left of the village had been left entirely under snow and what timber and stone remain that managed to pierce the layer of snow sat there like a set of dishevelled corpses staring upwards. In the centre of the village was what appeared to be a river, though, given the colour and the way the sun reflected off the surface shimmering and blinding anyone who was looking at it from the wrong angle, it was rather obvious that the entire thing had frozen up.
"Interesting, the lake is frozen" Nat muttered as he took a few seconds to admire the solid river, with hos it stretched and curved though now thinned he was able to follow the trail as it seemingly acted as a heart for what had once been this village, something that had likely assisted in the moving of valuable stone from the nearby quarry into the rest of Orlais where it could be sold. Or as he followed the river back up to its source, to where the giant elven fortress sat across the hills staring down from other far away and high down, it's ancient and crumbling walls like that of a decrepit statue.
No doubt that would be where his current target lay as unless the demon was hiding, than one so bound to desire such as Ishmael would likely only seek the best of the desires and never seek for something so lacking as the pathetic remnants that had been left behind by this area.
"It's a pretty common occurrence, why, have you never seen a frozen river or lake back where you come from?"
"Not in my homeland no, aside from the gulf stream, the past few decades have seen an end to such things. Apart from the most northern reaches of our territory, we don't even get snowfall anymore, not unless it's a particularly cold year"
"No snow" Harding turned surprised, her eyes wide. While she had certainly understood the concept after al in places like Tevinter as well as others, snow wasn't even heard off, but the way Nat spoke that over a few decades what had once been a common occurrence had vanished was just bizarre. "Does it get cold"
"Not compared to here, global warming and all that business. Just strange seeing a frozen river, can't imagine it happening in my country that's all"
"Well that's sad, what do kids do when it gets cold?"
"Stay indoors play video games, talk with friends. Throw snow-covered rocks at people because they think it's funny"
"And you?"
"Studying. Anyhow, what news do you have for us on the region, I know Imshael is here, I can sense him up in the fortress, but is there anything else that's happened, any problems we might as well sort out seeing as we're here?"
"We're on the outskirts of Sahrnia. This is what's left of the town, the lucky ones got out before the river froze over. The rest, penned in by Fade rifts and red templars. We're the first friendly face they've seen in a long while"
"How did the river freeze over" Despite being located on the west side of the fastback mountains separating Ferleden and Orlais with a strong natural barrier, this place given the current season should not have been as cold as it was under normal circumstances. As he looked around, part of his attention kept in the direction in the castle lest the great and ancient demon try something whether it be an attack or an escape, he began to wonder if magic had been involved.
It could indeed be a case of strange but all together with natural weather, after all, there was the story of the cavalry army that beat a navy by running on ice, but that weather was far less common then one would imagine and given the presence of Imshael or other possible Venatori mages in the area, it could also be one of them trying to put up a barrier to stop or hamper the Inquisitions agents.
"It got real cold real quick. Sahrnia relies on its river for well… everything; trade, food. They weren't expecting this"
"Do we know why the Templar's chose this place, initially I would say the quarry, but I can't see Coryphaeus building a castle sometime soon" Shaking her heard Harding led the group up over the incline to get a better view, their boots crunching on the powdered snow they were able to see much more of the devastation left behind? Hardly anything was left Nat saw, in fact not a single building stood intact, forcing anyone who was still living there as their small forms moved back and forth through the broken and messy pile of plaster and timber to freeze and huddle, some likely searching for any scraps of food.
"The templars have camps all through the hills, my scouts haven't been able to pass through"
"That's concerning, if not even you have managed to get a small amount of information out. Something is defiantly a miss, perhaps we should consider dealing with these Templars before we deal with the demon that loiters here" With dark eyes glancing down upset at the villagers, instinctively Blackwall brought his hand down to his belt where his small purse lay, there he brought out a good amount of coin, not all that he had, but enough to make his purse feel significantly lighter. Passing them onto Harding ensuring she clutched them tightly in her hand, he gave her the command hat next opportunity she got to go and buy some spare food for those down below and to bring it to the people here and feed them if it were at all possible.
"They'll be dealt with easily enough, any leads on where we should start out attack Harding," Nat said calmly as he offered a passing soldier a cup of chocolate. The soldier's face was utterly flummoxed, not knowing quite how to respond of being given a drink put directly into their hands, but given how it was from a superior officer and it was warm in their hands, they didn't dare resist, instead savouring the feeling and clutching it as best they could without scolding themselves.
"I'd start with the local quarry, a lot of the workers started to go missing after the Red Templar's moved in "
"Okay, I'll also check in with the townsfolk, make sure they're doing okay"
"I'm sure they'd appreciate that, know that the Inquisition cares about the small people" With a small smile Harding finished her drink before then with a sigh putting the empty glass on the floor only for it to vanish a moment later. Blinking she turned back to the wizard but carried on as if it was nothing. "The red Templars have been mounting frequent attacks, they want Emprise Du Lion, Bad"
"Then there's something important to them here, more so then a strategic location, they're defending something. Keep on guard Harding, I'll deal with the Templars as best I can but once they know of my arrival, well only a few things are going to happen and one of them isn't good."
"Then let's stop talking and take it back from them" Nat chuckled at the somewhat excited tone of Harding, leave it to her to be the most excited about a mission, she may have only been the scout but at times it was as though she would be better suited as a berserker, charging into the front lines a double-sided axe beside her as she twirled around and turned all enemies she faces into red pulpy mush. All in all, he would miss her if he were to leave.
As they descended into the old village however, the rust-covered gate squeaking loudly as a large amount of forcer was required to pry it open, the amount of damage inflicted became rather obvious. No building was left unscarred, some had their roofs toppled down allowing the cool grey light and shivers to rush in, others had entire sides and walls of their homes removed making the building is unstable, others were just a series of broken rumble long since collapsed useful only for scrap and rushed repair jobs. Some were in slightly better condition as the plaster from the inside was still visible, but as small children shuddered together their terrified faces peeking out from beneath what small thin sheet of cloth they had it became obvious that they were not going to survive long.
As they continued to walk along, the smell of death as corpses just lay in the ground as a few members of a local chantry their fingers still enveloped by insect bittern gloves went to move the corpses as best they could so they could have what religious ceremonies there were be performed. As they passed more homes their eyes falling again on the people and the building, as parents wasted away before their eyes their thin bodies visible to the phone like a set of shambling corpses their sunken eyes meeting theirs as nothing came out. No sign of hope or friendship just a cold apathy as though they were seeing ghosts.
"Excuse me sirs" A small young and frail voice emerged to the side. Turning they saw a young girl, barely any clothes o her pale face shivering and as her everybody instinct seemed to want to flee at that moment, to run away in fear, as though they would strike her down. "Would you buy a match please"
Though his face was neutral Nat turned to Blackwall expecting a reaction or maybe some sort of direction on which he could go. It was not the first time he had seen such a thing, it was inevitable and he couldn't help everyone, such a thing was to be expected in war, villages destroyed, people massacred, children left as orphans. Worse this was not his own home where these children would be provided for by the state, given education and kept in a place to a certain age that would eventually lead to them being kicked out and told to make a name for themselves as cruel as it was. These were small children, lost and forgotten on death's door, doing whatever they could to survive.
Worse was that he knew there was very little he could do about it. In the short term, he could rebuild the village, repair what was, make the place liveable and take away the immediate problems, especially once the Templars were all dealt with, but after that, when he had left. He could not bring back their economy or more importantly their loved ones, and what was a person to do then especially in this world. Young girls were bound to suffer a horrid fate selling their body for sex likely until they caught something and died, and boys if they were not taken and trained, could become vagabonds and murderers, destined to repeat the cycle.
Gently he pulled out a few silver pieces from his wallet and handed to the girl, then he only took a handful of the matches, giving the girl the silver alone could have been dangerous. Others would see and be jealous, so by at least paying far more then what her product was worth which was less than a copper, she may be able to support herself for a short time as the Inquisition put more permanent things in place.
As the girl accepted them her young face beaming with utter shock as her small thin fingers grasped and reached around them she finally allowed her eyes to look into those of the strange young man looking at her, not in pity as others had, but with a neutral look.
There was no smile from the game, no warm look as though all her problems had been lifted instead there was only a knowing look as she no doubt began to think about how best to ration this valuable material for the next few days, thinking of getting some clothing for her feet and some food she could store. Without saying anything Nat nodded and then raised himself off the ground as he had found himself kneeling then with a hand on his sword he proceeded to walk away not looking back at the girl.
"Dam war" Blackwall muttered his dark eyes glancing back the child not desiring to leave her presence but knowing all the same that there was little that could be done for her.
"That's why we're here Blackwall, to find answers that will help end it," Nat said his attention focused on the area in front of him as he trod through the snow. He didn't even bother to look back there was no reason to, it was a sad thing, but ultimately comforting a single lonely girl would achieve nothing perhaps comfort her, but her parents were dead and he doubted she wanted some strangers looking over her shoulder not to mention it was better to kill the Templars now and have the area secure.
"I don't like it, going to a demon for help, we all know what those things do" His words were punctuated with a noticeable amount of loathing, however, Nat paid no heed to it, the others were entitled to their opinions and so long as they did their job and did not compromise the mission he would leave them be.
"We're not asking for help, we're going to capture and force the thing to comply"
"You say it like it's going to be easy kid, as though we aren't about to go fight against a demon older then Tevinter" With Bianca shouldered Varric continued to look around the broken village his eyes moving from person to person as they sat there in the streets their eyes devoid of all life and hope. Their hands were calloused their faces pale and their bodies shivering at the tiniest sign of the wind as their ragged and torn clothes that had obviously long since seen better days remembered him of years ago back in Kirkwall after the Fith Blight.
Those poor sods had stood very little chance and more then a handful of the refugees died alone on cold wet nights as some type of disease took them, that or they were killed by one of the raving bags of thugs or mercenaries or like in Hawkes case they may have been sapped up by smugglers to do their dirty work. It annoyed him to see such a thing again, his blood running cold as he knew that if something was not done soon then this village would likely all be dead.
"We'll deal with it Varric" Nat's thoughts cut through the dwarves thoughts taking him by surprise. How had the kid know, he knew he wasn't that obvious yet as Nat kept moving his attention clearly on the target ahead of them he again could not help but think back momentarily to Hawke as she left them through those streets except this time it was the second in command.
Soon as they advanced through the city they came across an older woman, though dressed in finer clothes than the rest, lined with fancy brown fur protecting her from the cold somewhat, her stern face showed it's as she picked up a bowl of soup and slowly tipped it down a young man's throat as he lay there in the cold against a wall. She was gentle with her words ash she fed the man her calm visage swept with sorrow and an unhealthy amount of guilt that dragged on her every action.
When they approached the woman's eyes turned to them somewhat confused upon seeing the strange arrangement of men in front of her but quickly widened in recognition the moment her eyes landed onto the symbol that lay upon the young wizard's collar.
"Lord Commander, the soldiers said you would be coming" She bowed her head in a grateful yet unrefined motion as though her limbs were drugged with tiredness, nodding in return Nat met her eyes and entered her mind gathering what the situation in these parts was before he pressed for questioning.
"No need to bow, I assume you are Lady of this place"
"Yes my lord or I was before I sold the Red Templars my mine"
"You what?" Blackwalls face was filled with anger, he grasped for his sword only to stop suddenly every limb in his body seemingly freezing at once keeping him stuck unable to do something. Nat's calm voice emerged shortly afterwards.
"Halt Blackwall. Sorry for my companion's rude nature, but he does have a point, actively assisting Coryphaeus and his gang carries the penalty of death, do you have anything to say in you're defence" In truth, this was merely a formality, he knew the woman's reasoning, he had seen just what she had faced, the hardness, the suffering, the niggling thoughts that had plagued her for some time before she had agreed. She would be tried, the demands of the people here would see to that, but he would ensure she received a fair.
"I swear I didn't know they were red Templars at the time, they didn't say who they were when they first came, but they offered to reopen the mine, to give people jobs. You should have seen them, ever since the war nobody was buying from us anymore, no one had jobs, people… they were starving. I… we… it was the first good thing that had happened to us in so long, I couldn't just refuse. And it wasn't bad at first, they stuck to their promise initially, the mine was opened up people could go to work. You should have seen it, the number of children who cried because no food was much less, people were beginning to smile, their lives were back on track."
"Then what happened"
"People started to disappear, it was only one at first, an accident the templars called it and we believed them, but as time went on the amount of these accidents increased, eventually people were disappearing every week. Some of the workers refused to stop going and tried to rally the others, but one night they just vanished without any trace. We all knew it was the Templars and when others refused to go that's when they came in, they stopped being kind, it was only an illusion they never had any intention of keeping it up. One day they just arrived and started dragging people off, if people refused they were killed and if they weren't then they were taken as well."
"I see, how many people do you think they still have?" When the woman's eyes went downcast staring at the field as her grey eyes seemed to crinkle as mourning and guilt took over that was when Nat understood. There were none left the enemy having taken and either having killed them all here or sent away likely Corypheus main force to act as slaves in some kind of dark scheme. "We'll sort the problem out, and if there are any survivors we'll send them back"
"You're the Tempest boy aren't you," The woman said in a terrified manner her very body shaking from just the name alone as though doing so would invite his wrath upon her, to cut down and slay every single person as might an Orlesian noble do were a random elf to insult them. When he did not do anything of the sort instead nodding sternly the woman gave a breath of relief then after taking a few moments to compose her self she carried on. "Please kill them all, every last templar, cut them down make them feel what we felt, end their lives. Please I beg you"
"Maam, surely" Blackwall began but was soundly interrupted by a concerned glare shot at him.
"Is he not the butcher is he not the ones the Templars are so afraid of. Please, Lord Tempest, they fear you like nothing else, you should make them pay, to hurt for all they did. These were innocent people trying to have a peaceful life and then those Templars defiled it, they broke their promise they hurt my people. Please, My Lord, I'll do anything, take my head, drown me, but these people deserve your protection and your judgment"
Her tone was pleading her grey eyes nearly on the verge of welling up and crying again as a dark and horrid look came about her the small olf frail arms of the noblewoman gently went to reach out and touch the finer clothes of the wizard to ask and beg him for anything even if she had very little she could offer them given how poor she was, this pair of clothes being the very last she had in her possession and the poorest of the bunch given that she had sacrificed the others to protect these people.
"I can assure you that I will deal with the Templars"
"No" The woman yelled. "You have to kill them, these aren't the Templars that protected us, these are monsters, beasts, no better then wild animals, you have to butcher them like so, if you don't then these people will never be safe, ple-" Before she could carry on a loud high pitched ringing bellowed over the cold air blasting into the ear drums as a bell struck in rapid succession from far away. Turning their attention towards it the group saw the small battered ruined tower that had once belonged to the chantry it's now once dark wooden floors revealed to the elements as half of the wall had been destroyed leaving the sight of a lone villager ringing the bell desperately.
"What is it?" Blackwall demanded his eyes transfixed on the location as he drew his sword, around them the local villagers started to panic. The older man that the noblewoman had just fed started to shake his entire body seemingly going into a schism as it rocked back and forth their eyes going glassy and their skin all sweaty.
"Templars, they have returned" The noblewoman cried in horror. "Please help me protect the villager, I'll give you everything I can to deal with your mission here, but please" A nod was all that was given but it was enough for upon that gesture the woman rose up grasping the man laying on his side and moving to help him get lifted off and drag him inside to the nearest house for shelter. It was not much, it was half destroyed, the roof having since caved in leaving whatever living space there had been full or broken rubble, but it was still a far safer location then being out in the middle of the road where the battle was to be had.
"Varric, find a place with a good advantageous position, Dorian stay behind the front line, Blackwall, stay here in the centre, if any Templarstry to sneak in from the side I want you to deal with them"
"And you?" Blackwall inquired.
"I'm going to see if we can't settle this matter peacefully" Grabbing the hilt of his blade Nat followed by Dorian and Varric quickly moved through the village their legs moving as fast as they could towards what remaining walls they had left. Varric, noticing that the old chantry was close to that entrance quickly diverted upwards and took positions laying his crossbow in an advantageous position that gave him a large area of view where he could deal with any opponent that may come rushing through. Dorian in contrast found a pile of rubble several metres away from the main entrance which was just a long since smashed piece of the wall. Large enough for the cavalry to ride through he instantly had multiple spells he thought he could cast to divert the enemy should they continue with their assault.
Nat was in the lead and as he walked to the front of the group hs instantly drew attention from those around the front. The first group were those of the residents of this place, or what was left of them anyway, dressed in torn clothes that like other parts of Fereelden were more dressed for the cold environment of the mountains their eyes turned confused when they saw one of the most outlandishly dressed children in their lives. At first, a whisper grew of some strange Orlesian noble but after only one or two whispers, they drew the attention of what troops of the Inquisition had been deployed to the region.
Dorian they recognised and some even gave a quaint hello, but it was Nat they recognised their once cold faces as they prepared for an assault turning from a grim look to one of such utter gladness and cheer. Like an ancient hero of old the mere presence of the second in command a boys feats some had ever seen, but most had only heard of could do nothing other than bolstering the courage of the men as they grabbed their swords grins on their faces, already in their minds the battle had been won and it would be a massacre for the enemy.
Loud cries were heard from the men as they saw the second in command walk past calmly a cup of tea in one hand and seemingly uncaring about the large Red Templar host as they raced over in the distance upon the backs of strong warhorses. Their armour, steel armour shining radiantly in the sun as it reflected off the shards of red lyrium that had been infused into their plate armour sending a cacophony of blood-red rays to glare over the sun seemingly hinting at what was to come.
Unconcerned the group of men watched as without hesitation their commander walked through the gap of the wall and onto the snow-covered banks of this place occasionally taking a sip. Seeing this rather odd behaviour one of the Templars rode across obviously understanding what it means, as they drew their sword though ready to strike down this obviously arrogant orlesain child where he stood cleaving his head off his shoulders where it could then be shown as a trophy, they suddenly began to slow down their mind putting together the picture as they got closer and was able to see more details.
The boy in front of them was young, with hair the colour of wheat during harvest, yet unaffected by the wind even as the cool airs blew. His clothing was also odd wearing entirely all black in a casual manner as though he was mourning but it was so entirely foreign. On his belt hung at his sword was a sword and on the other was a strange type of holster that wore the weapon of the enemy called a pistol. The stance of this strange boy was odd as it was a case of sending a deep horrid feeling shooting up the rider's spine as he continued to approach every instinct screaming at him as though he was walking into a nightmare, knowing what was about to happen, pleading with him not to go but he could not hear.
The boy looked casual not a care in the world even when at least a hundred Templars all on horseback were mere moments away from him, ready to crush his skull with the pounding feet of war horses. It was absurd the Templar thought as a nagging sense of dread began to gnaw at him, even if the boy was a mage which he surely wasn't given the lack of staff then he would have been worried about a cavalry rush, they would be on him in moments, and with Templars, they would destroy and cut off his connection with the Fade allowing him to be cut down like the true heretic he was. So why would he drink a hot beverage such as tea of of all times, the ice was strong.
Wait the Templars mind came to a horrifying screeching shock, young, wearing black, drank a lot of tea and unbothered by Templars in the slightest no doubt their numbers. There was only one being that he knew of that could possibly meet his description. As the realisation came to him his body blaring with emotion, fury and hatred as he desired to get revenge and fear on the other from the reputation, the boy's eyes met his own somehow meeting them even with the dead cold and distance even as a spear was levelled at him. The boy took a sip of his drink seemingly to savour the taste before he then locked his attention fully onto the Templar
"Stop"
The command had to be followed, no sense of rejection to display of authority or rebelling against power, one moment the horse he was on was charging towards the boy, the next it halted in its tracks launching the rider with such speed and shock that they had no time to grab on and was sent hurtling through the air before then crashing. Their bones snapping as they lay there, every rib bone splintered, their thigh bones piercing out of their legs as their head slowly and in so much pain that they were not even able to speak could only just look up at the boy that he now was on the floor in front off.
"I said to stop, not kill yourself" The boy muttered in a disappointed manner. "I wanted to talk, but oh well"
"Talk?" The Injured Templar spat his blood pooling from out every wound as he felt the life drain out of him. The boy rolled his eyes.
"Yes, I'm here to ask for your surrender on behalf of the Inquisition, but I guess that doesn't matter now, you can't exactly call off your men if you aren't conscious. Shame, guess they'll just die" Inquisition? were it possible the downed Templar would have felt his blood pump faster round his body as the last piece of evidence needed was relayed. Instantly his thoughts turned to his comrades abject fear and loathing he had never felt before coming to the foreground of his mind as every second he felt the world underneath his body shake underneath the thundering of hooves.
He wanted to scream to tell them to retreat to pray to the Maker, to do anything that would get his brothers and sisters away from the monster hidden beneath human guise in front of him. He could do for nought however as his strength left his face in the dirt as his life drifted away from him and this rare chance to be so close to the Butcher was gone as every bone in his body was broken. As he thought he moaned however in pain and panic and fear in love, enough to warrant the attention of the boy enough so that without a second thought and in front of the other Templars still charging to their yet unidentified doom, he withdrew a single pistol in his spare hand aimed it downwards to the man's body and without any hesitation squeezed the trigger.
A crack of sound like thunder echoed from the pistol and at once the horses of the Templars began to flare as the horrid stench of gunpowder and blood wafted with unnatural speed from the corpse to their nostrils setting them on edge and stir crazy. The Templars ignored this, instead enraged at the sudden execution of one of their brethren at the hands of this stranger their drew their swords a roar of anger and promise of death on their lips that would befall their brethren killer. As their horses came down the slope and their steel beaten hooves touched upon the river that had withstood even greater weight none of them could have predicted as moments Laster as their forms reached halfway across the river nearly ready to rush up onto the other side and kill the boy that out of nowhere the water would just melt.
Not like the slow decay of time as over the course of days or weeks or even minutes when the water would heat up and transform into the water, not it was sudden done in the span of a second as though the ice had simply been removed entirely from the face of the planet or that sun had been placed underneath the sun melting it.
The result was catastrophic. Suddenly the long line of cavalry formed to showcase the strength and to make it harder for the muskets of the inquisition to cut down their collum sank into the icy water at once. Horses neighed pitifully the sudden cold a shock to the system as the heavyweight of armour and the lack of food that had starved them dragged them down as desperate and terrified mewls rose up only to vanish soon afterwards as their heads tried to bob for water. The men fared worse, some falling in the water and drowning as in their shock they had not taken a breath and those that had soon lost it in the frigid water. Most drowned their bodies reacting on instinct and the weight of their gear dragging them down and taking them to a frigid watery grave their very last moments spent in abject terror, those who did not and were able to think more clearly and dismount their horses soon face an even crueller fate. For as they sawm upwards their every muscle tired and cold and weighed down as nothing had before, they came closer to the surface, but just as they were within reach their heads about to emerge outwards and grasp that free air, their gloved hands touched solid ice.
Over a metre thick in a moment just as fast as the ice that had laid ontop had swallowed them whole it had reappeared trapping them beneath. As the blind panic and fear swept them the Templars desperately turning around only to see their dead comrades sink beneath them their place weather logged faces twisted into an almost peaceful expression they could only feel the pain as their air escaped them. Time seemed to slow and every second was as ruthful as the sun in the middle of July. As the last strongest few fought as hard as they could banging their blades against the ice in a fruitless effort to slice and perhaps get some sort of fresh air, that was when they heard the sound of creaking ice.
Thump-thump, thump, it was gentle, not heavy footsteps but they could see them from beneath the ice, see shoes the size of a young man followed by the black-dressed form of the boy who had stood opposite the bank. Unusually see-through like glass, they watched as moment by moment they saw the cold uncaring face of the wizard staring down at them without the slightest care instead he simply took another drink the hot steam wafting upwards sending the cold drowning men in their last throes of agony into the same emotion that a man dying in the desert would feel as they saw water but could never attain.
Their last moments were in pain and agony and try as they might, not a single one of the strongest was able to come up with enough thought to even attempt to curse the wizard that stood there hovering over. One by one they floated to the bottom, the corpses of the Templar joining that of their mount beneath an icy grave.
"I really do wonder why they even try at times" Nat muttered as he continued to stare down at the peaceful expressions on the dead templars. Were they just that determined to kill anything that opposed them, or had none of them other the initial scout, thought to even consider just who he was. Admittedly they couldn't have expected him to just turn up out of the blue like he did but even then the idea that they could have just charged the village and not been given an immediate response by the soldiers of the Inquisition as their charge was met with musket fire from soldiers as they took higher elevations that could not be targeted by a cavalry attack would have surely done them in.
"I've heard of you" A new voice spoke from behind him. Turning around Nat met the attention of what was obviously an Orlesian Chevalier. Dressed int heir fancy armour emblazoned with the symbol of the Orlesian lion, the Chevalier was a young handsome man, incredibly so. With his sharp features and short but well-groomed hair and more elegant features combined with his slightly different presence to others, he knew the man was half-elven.
"As have I of you, Ser Michel de Chevin. Tell me what brings the ex-personal guard of the Empress herself so far from the imperial court?" Michel's eyes widened ever so slightly, it was a very small thing one that spoke to his high-class training as a chevalier that like thew wizards own training was to prevent an enemy from gaining an advantage, however, such a thing was of no use when speaking to a person who could simply read through one's mind and had seen secrets buried unravelled on a whim.
"I hunt a demon, one called Imshael" The man answered swiftly as he stared at the dead corpses that now lay beneath them, they were so close yet so apart as though he could reach out and touch them. So quickly they had died he thought and the one who had done it, his eyes narrowed in concern at the child who now strode across the ice without a concern in the world. So that was why they called him the butcher he realised grimly, to kill so easily in such large amounts and for it not to affect him in the slightest. He shook his head, it would be best not to antagonise such a being especially when he held the good graces of Celene.
"Then we have a common cause, though I believe our final goals for such a creature differ"
"Differ, you do not wish to slay the demon," Michel asked concerned.
"It will die, you can be assured of that Chevalier, however, I need a great amount of information from it before it's wretched form can be destroyed"
"If you are close to Celene then you must already know that I-"
"I know" Nat answered swiftly before fixing the man a neutral look. "But you deserve the title anyway, for what it's worth you're definitely one of the ones more deserving of the title and your parents should not dictate whether or not you can achieve what you set out for. You're a good man Michel, better than I, however, I have not come to give out compliments. I was hoping we could cause to some agreement and spare any type of bloodshed on this matter"
"I have sworn an oath to my duty, this demon has committed countless atrocities and defiled my honour in tricking me. I cannot allow it to live, if you stand in my path and seek to protect the demon, then I will have to consider you my enemy as well" There was a reluctance to his tone Nat noted as well as a small amount of fear that gnawed at the man as he moved his hand to his sword. The blonde man was obviously aware that if it came down to an actual fight that he would lose and not only that but he would lose badly, for while he was strong chevalier trained in the most advanced arts of warfare in this world, he was still nought but a muggle and would die just as easy as any. Yet the way the man didn't flinch in the slightest when he said it instead of speaking with such resolve actually amused the wizard to the point where he gave a small chuckle before then sighing. Finally as ever with a fake but warm smile hoping to put the man at res he responded.
"I have no desire to keep you from your oath Michel, though we certainly don't hold the same values, I can respect your goals and I will not keep your revenge from you. Your oath is to kill the demon, mine is to capture and interrogate the demon, both of our desires align, all that simply needs to be done is to have an agreement between the two of us"
"I would like to agree" Michel began his eyes downcast as he considered the proposal "However how I know this demon, it offer's deals that are often hard to ignore. It will promise you things, desires you wish to be fulfilled especially when it is for another. I would like to say I can trust you, but I cannot in good conscience leave my oath to others.
"I am aware, This particular demon was made known to us some months ago, though we have been too busy as of yet to take the necessary action" Michel looked around unsure, first to the wizard who while even with the so-called dangerous reputation he carried did not seem like that much of a threat.
"Have you considered bringing more forces, this is no ordinary demon, even with magic it will be a tough battle. On the other hand, I have seen the weapons your soldiers use, should you not be using your own" Referencing the rifle that was on the wizards back, the two quickly glanced back at the ruins that were once thriving town. Even with the cold ice that coated everything it touched as the people went about their business, the bright scarlet of the inquisition, the red seemingly shining against the all-encompassing darkness as a message and a declaration of war could be seen clearly. The Inquisition was there and they were there to stay.
"They will stay here and defend the town as well as assist the people in rebuilding the town."
There will be another wave shortly as revenge, they typically come in threes"
"Good, the faster we can dispatch the templars the easier a job we will have of getting through this area" As he said it Michel noticed as slowly though not at all sluggishly the wizards head rotated around them his eyes scanning every nook and cranny for anything that stood out. His long experience in fighting allowed Ser Michel to recognise and follow suit, however, these were not peasants who had been thrust a sword in their hand and told to charge the enemy frontline, these were Templars, like him they were trained from childhood in how to fight and kill including such activities as how to hide oneself from enemy scouts. In this environment, he knew those whose jobs were scouts had painted their rumour white to help best camouflage themselves into the local surroundings. They would be hard to notice, yet it didn't seem to bother the child any as he made his observation notice in a way that seemed to disguise it as just admiring the view, till finally he halted his look and responded.
"I count eight scouting groups, sixty-seven men and women total, located…" To Michel's utter amazement he could only listen as the boy in a short and concise manner proceeded to tell him exactly where each enemy was located as well as there range and elevation. Just how he was able to work something out when not even him with the sun shining brightly in his eyes were barely able to make out one or two scouts and that was very vague as the sun caught ever so slightly on the metal of a weapon. What came next however as even more shocking. Touching his ear slightly Michel could only watch As Nat then preceded to speak into the open air.
"Inquisition first artillery company, Raven squadron come in over" Michel could hear nothing for a few moments before suddenly out of nowhere he could hear the tiniest of noises emanating from the place the strange wizard had touched his ear.
"Yes, who is this"
"Lord Commander of the Inquisition, verification, Merlin, Morgana, Mordred. I request your battery to open fire on the following locations, do you understand"
"Yes we understand, Lord Commander, what targets do you want us to destroy"
"We have eight scout companies, we'll start with the north ridge, elevation two hundred and seventeen metres, beside the tall stone shaped like a dagger. Fire three shots per cannon, see if we can't hit them square on"
"Yes sir" A minute or so passed in relative silence, wind preceded to blow through carefully and birds gave an occasional tweet if they were active in this cold environment. Up above Nat kept a careful eye on the enemy scout company as they continued to sit there beside the rock. Obviously, they believed with their white-painted armour that they would be impossible to spot at such range. Usually, they may be correct, but the modern world had developed several ways to counteract such things and when introduced to enchantments it allowed the wizard to watch with crystal clarity as he saw the large thermal signatures they gave off making them far easier to spot now, then if they had been wearing pitch black.
That was when with no warning a vicious thunderous noise gripped the valley blasting apart the eery silence with tremendous power as out of nowhere the artillery company that had been stationed within the town opened fire on the relative coordinates and ripped apart the calm atmosphere with brutal efficiency. From his position down below, Michel heard the shots first rather then he saw them. First, he heard the initial blast as cannon balls were hurled across the air with horrifying speed towards the mountain ridge, and then straight after he heard as the screeching sound of wind sending shivers down the spine crunched into the ridge breaking apart the area with utter ease.
The targeted scouts stood little chance, one moment they in their cold environment doing their best to stay warm by the dagger sized rocks underneath their thick hides and armour even as it felt like they were closing in on their sides, whilst their fingers felt numb in the wintery grasp, the next they saw a flash of yellow light in the distance followed promptly by nothing. The cannonballs struck the ground with tremendous force, blowing apart legs and arms throwing soldiers back in the distance and striking against the wall. Choking on their own blood another scout could only stare dumbly for a moment as he looked at the eviscerated ground and prepared to send a prayer to the maker. That was when above them the sound of creaking filled their heart with despair as the snow cracked and then poured down as an avalanche was unleashed throwing down its mighty weight and crushing the scout dead where he stood.
"Good shot Raven squadron, reload and move targets to towards east ridge, where that fold in the mountains is, do you see it"
"Yes sir we see it"
"Good aim, twenty-seven metres right of it and fire, again three shots per cannon, fire in battery when all cannons are ready" Relaying the orders back to the artillery company, Nat turned his attention to Michel offering him a cup of tea, reluctantly the man still somewhat in shock what had just happened took it and preceded to lock his attention on the next target.
"Impossible, how did you manage to do that, I thought magical communication was limited only to the Circle Towers"
"We improved," Nat said with a calm demeanour. Once again Michel was shaking with a terrifying revelation.
"But if you can do that, then that means in a battle you have the ability to enact control directly, there's no need for…" His mouth widened. Communication was an essential thing in war, that was the thing they had all be trained and drilled into their head day after day since he had joined the Chevaliers. Having a good tactical and strategic mind was brilliant, having the strength and skill to put their weapon to use and slaughter the enemy was essential, and having the confidence and ability to take charge and press the advantage and change tactics on the fly was necessary thing given the chaotic nature of a battlefield when it was all noisy and enemies could be blurred for friends and vice versa, there was also the feeling of exhilaration of getting lost that allowed one to lose a battle if they could not keep a clear head, but all of that paled to communication.
What use was ordering a brilliant strategic move that would allow you to wrap around the enemies flank with your own cavalry decapitating the enemies leaderships and forcing their enemy into a route and a glorious victory if you're cavalry never received the order? What happened if you needed to call for a general retreat as you had lost the battle but now needed to minimise your losses if the order could not be given or was misheard, there had been plenty of battles were miscommunication had left to the pointless deaths of soldiers as a runner has said the wrong thing or a commander had misinterpreted it. Then there was the factor of time, how fast could a messenger work, was it a case of seconds, minutes, an order that may take fifteen minutes to arrive could lose the commander their entire war, or it may occur not at all if the runner was dead, or the enemy could take advantage in that time.
Nut what had happened was something he could not have imagined, instant communication, one moment the second in command of the inquisition was relaying word to an artillery company, the next that company was firing on the enemy. Other then the time to change target and now the time to reload the weapon, there was hardly any delay. It was shocking, brilliant, terrifying, but also concerning. Looking to the wizard and the utter sense of calmness was not something new, commanders were often calm in battle, at least when it went his own, way, but it was not this battle he was concerned about, but rather others.
Muskets themselves made short work of even heavily armoured Templars, and though slower to load and fire and less accurate than a bow as well as having less range, the crucial components they had was training and punching power. Only with the most powerful war bows could an arrow punch through armour and only at close range, even then archers were not effective against armour unless they were accurate enough to hit the weak points, but a musket did not care about that in the slightest, it did not bounce off armour, it broke it. Punching straight through plate armour that may have taken a blacksmith a great amount of time to make as if it was nothing. He had seen the exit holes of bullets from dead Templars and other men killed by muskets, it was not a kindly sight. Was this what Celene would have to deal with if she pushed the Inquisition too far? Death on a level one could imagine, that her commoners and chevaliers would be ripped to shreds as though it were nothing, that their class did not count in the slightest was terrifying.
He was so lost in his thoughts that only the sound of another set of cannons roaring once again breaking the peace of the atmosphere was what brought him out and yet again he was forced to watch on as a group of Templar's scouts either there to gather information or attack a group s they advanced up were promptly hammered by the wrath of the Inquisition. A series of cannonballs shrieked through the sky striking the men and cratering the ground. Some men died instantly the blast enough to tear limbs off, barrel through entire chests of men and sent others to the floor. Yet despite this, it was not enough some men still lived for white able to hit the general area, the shells were not explosive in nature and thus those who were further away from the clumped up men instead looked at their comrades and began running or panicking.
It took time for the next barrage to come, artillery was not a quick weapon for unlike a disciplined and well-trained musket man who could fire perhaps three rounds a minute, and four, if they were veterans with years of experience under their belt, a cannon for the current crew, could only be fired three times every two minutes. Even that, however, was due to the incredible generosity of magic that had essentially allowed Nat to provide his artillery companies with infinite ammunition, allowing them to practise all day so they could put up their skills.
Unseen to Michel however Nat waited with a small amount of exhilaration hidden behind that blank mask. This was exciting, the thrill of battle was yet to hit him, even now he remembered that time he had burst through the doors of the Grey Wardens an army at his back as cannon fire bombarded the enemy fortress turning it into rubble. His heart had never beaten as fast as that day, not even against opponents back home in duels, it was brilliant, exciting, a thrill of unimaginable bonds being that close to death, it was fun above anything. The smell of powder un his base combined with that of death had lit a fire within him, one that as the artillery fired on that position for a second time, was starting to overcome him again.
As the next two rounds of artillery fire broke apart the remaining scouts at that location, Nat once again reordered them again, choosing a different position. This third time however the scouts had understood as though they could not see the cannons in any great detail, they could make out the movement of the regal dress of royal blue as they scuttered around reloading the weapons and began to target the next group.
"How?" One of the lead scouts asked afraid as he watched from the side-lines his heart beating with fear. "How do they know we're heer, we were being careful we even painted our armour?"
"It has to be that mage in the middle, you saw what he did to the cavalry, he must be using some kind of spell to locate us" Another scout replied as they tightened the grip on their bow, for a moment it appeared they would try to knock an arrow and loose upon the mage hoping to kill them then and there. But the wind was too strong and the distance too great, they recognised that if they fired it would be a waste of ammunition.
"Should we charge them, sir, there's only one of them" They looked at the terrain, currently the mage was in the centre of a large basin with the village behind them. With such a large gap it made for a good idea, they could surround them better from each side, and use the advantage of bows to keep the mage distracted as the others with sword and spear and axe advanced further ready to chop the mage down. Except there was also the problem of Ice, the mage had ensured he stood clearly on solid hard ground, forcing any enemy charge to go over incredibly disadvantage terrain, terrain which as he had demonstrated he could use to their advantage.
Before the lad scout could reply, however, the sounds of bursting cannon fire again was made known as the group could only watch as opposite them another group of scouts, this times ones who had decided to try and make a run for it were promptly struck as metal balls crashed into the area around them, killing some dead, though not as many.
"We need to take out those cannon's first, none of us can retreat safely until they're taken out. Gather the men, we'll try to sneak around the back"
"But sir the other soldiers, the one's in red?"
"Don't matter, if we stay here we're dead, if we break for cover and try to retreat the cannons will fire on us and we're dead, if we attack the soldiers we might be able to distract the cannons long enough for the others to make a break for it" Even as he said the Scout captain could feel his mouth go dry with the very thought, it was not something he had never faced before, he was a Templar he had known that every time he went to pursue a mage and deliver justice upon them that he could die, whether that would be via freezing to death being cooked alive in his own armour, being crushed by a rock or any number of ways that mages could brutally kill. It had never mattered, he had the advantage of Lyrium able to suppress magic and allow him to get in close to deliver the finishing strike. But this, all he could do was watch his face hidden behind his helmet as it looked on in horror as men he had once called brother, that he had thought with, that he had trained when they had first joined were promptly slaughtered as cannon fire ripped into their ranks and slaughtered them as though they were nought but livestock.
Turning his eyes towards the centre of the ravine the scout captain focused on the one in black. From here it was hard to make out just who he was other than the fact that he was a mage, yet as time passed on and the startling sound of cannon fire continued to rip in, defeating the cries out of his men as they demanded orders, he could feel a slow icy feeling crawl up and grab his heart.
The cannons were only a recent addition before it had only been the musket men, had they known earlier then they would have sent a far greater force. But combined with a mage with long solder hair and dressed in black, one who arrived at the same time when the enemies most powerful weapons had converged and brought war upon the, there was only one individual he could possibly think of that could inflict such damage. A young mage who with their power would either have been killed by the Templars had he resided in a tower or by this point forced through the Hallowing.
The stories that surrounded him had to be made up the Scout Captain thought, yet he had also seen the impaled corpses decorating the chantry of the Maker, the house of the beloved god of these people. He had seen with his brothers as they had scouted out the old fortress of their ancient history only to see as countless templars lay dead without a single enemy body to match. Then there was the battle of the Grey Wardens, their most powerful allies that they had garnered, a truly dangerous force one that would have made the Inquisition think twice, had instead been eviscerated in a day, their long old fortress turned into nothing but ruin, the great nightmare demon is slain and all for what, a pesky hundred dead on the enemy side dead due to the Ancient One's Archdemon.
"Sir, are you sure?" The Captain looked back to his fellow soldier, a young lad, no older than perhaps sixteen, his eyes full of fear and concern as he did his best to keep his head down as the cannon continued to fire and rip away their fellows on the far side. "Sir our orders" The boy repeated this time with haste, his courage flattering and being replaced with a mix of utter fear and anger. They could very likely die this day, the question was did they try and attack the cannons, force their attention on them to buy those precious moments, or did they themselves escape.
"Sir… sir, it's… it's" Another soldier quailed his face having turned paler than the snow and their body going into sudden shock
"It's what," The scout captain asked.
"It's Tempest" And with that very word chaos ensued. Any and all order that the scout captain had over his men evaporated in an instant. The morale of the men was shattered like glass and no longer did they look at the cannons rip apart their men with concern, fear and a small amount of courage as they prepared to give their lives for their brothers and sisters in arms, instead their attention lay on the monster within the centre.
"What do we do" The first soldier yelled no longer giving any concern to trying to hide as they instead swivelled their head around desperately looking for the best escape path, the way that would allow them to live for a longer duration.
"Run, Run" Screamed the second, his voice bellowing with despair. The next moment that soldier heaved himself out of his position throwing his weapons away with reckless abandon doing everything they could to lighten their load and give themselves a better chance.
"Halt" The captain roared and threw his body forward in an attempt to catch the men, but it was too late, his men had already followed suit and had now broken cover their white forms now flashing much more visibly against the dark grey rock that they were behind. "Stop, you're just going to expose-"
A sudden blast struck the side just in front of the captain throwing him into the sky before a sudden force grasped him out of nowhere and yanked him away from the ridge towards the floor. As he hurtled towards his death he was barely able to recognise the shape of the cloud of smoke, dust and body parts as his subordinates were blown apart killing them instantly decorating the area with their blood and limbs as they fell down in a gruesome gory wave. Just as he did, however, his mind going into total shock, he felt the strange force that had yanked him so hard vanish and was instead replaced with the fear of falling, staring down he had no less than a couple of seconds before his entire body crunched into the ground with a sickening noise. He died instantly his corpse sinking beneath the ice he had struck and drowning not to be seen again.
It was like some type of horror drama, Michel observed hiding his feeling of revulsion. One by one the different packs of scouts along the ridged were slaughtered, whether it was by direct cannon fire, ripping apart the men as large round balls struck them, or instead as a series of spells by the strange mage struck their position it did not matter. The end result was death, bodies obliterated any sort of skill or fairness and chivalry not even a concept to this type of fight, and those who survived the initial strike had no recourse for the mage simply grabbed them with his magic and dragged them from their feeble positions, striking their horrified minds and crashing them into the earth. Except in the horror drama that they had so often put on in Val Royeux where he had sat with Celene watching carefully as they acted out of their parts, there was a story for even the monsters or villains, and those who died at least tried to fight back, this was not like it. This was not a war he realised, this was nothing but a mass slaughter against those who could not even fight back.
The battle if one could even call it that took over ten minutes. Not because it was particularly long, Nat knew had he wanted too he could have killed all the men hiding fairly quickly. It was a bad idea to stand on a high ledge with a sheer drop nearby, a smart wizard could spend far less energy to simply push you off than to simply rip you apart with concussive force. Nevertheless, as the guns fell silent for not a single other soul was left alive their blood and guts the only reminder that they had once even been there in the first place, decorating the walls and snow, Nat simply nodded and took another sip of his tea before then casually touching the side of his ear and talking once again.
"Good job gentlemen, excellent firing. Reload and make sure you are to fire on my command, but after doing please have yourself a cup of tea you've earned it"
"Thank you, sir" The commander of Raven squad replied a small amount of pride in his voice before the communication channel went dead. Once it had done, Nat took another sip of tea and spared a glance at Michel.
"So Michel, do you think we can deal with Imshael, if not I can always call in more artillery…" No amount of training could have hidden Michel's shocked look allowing for the wizard to take a great amount of entertainment from it though he refused to show it.
"You certainly don't do thing by half kid" Varric muttered grimly as with the others he walked across the ice from the village to where the two warriors were stranding. All above them the many splodges of red could be seen shimmering in the white snow.
"The men needed practise, "Nat said nonchalantly not at all bothered by the deaths of so many. He had already killed hundreds by this point, and besides they were his enemy, he didn't need to know anything more about them, he didnt care to know anything more then what was needed in how to more efficiently kill them. Some of them might have had children and wives to go back to, but he did not care too much about them either, they were the enemy after all, and he didn't feel sympathy for his enemies. "Still if you thought that was impressive, wait till you see what I have cooked up. I've already asked Joesphine to see if she can gather me some Lyrium for experimental purposes"
"Lyrium" Whatever would you need Lyrium for," Dorian asked generally curious but also having a certain inkling on what the wizard was planning.
"Magical engineering, I can't be expected to power everything with magic, and there's no way of knowing if the mages here can replicate what I can do. On the other hand, if I can develop a way to use lyrium as a substitute to power advanced devices. Well it could prove quite useful, for the Inquisition"
"Weapons you mean," Blackwall said in a dark manner. Scratching his beard he looked upon the ridge and thought back to the way he talked. He had mentioned some great wars that had ended over a century ago, wars that had been so devasting, that so many had died, that had used devastating machines. "Isn't the artillery enough"
"Of course not, whether I am trapped here or not I am not going to give the enemy a single advantage, I am going to take from them infinitely, beat them down and when the final battle comes I have every intention of cutting the head off and letting the body die. This is merely the beginning, if we want to defeat Coryphaeus, we will need more powerful weapons. Now come we have a demon to capture" Striding forth with clear purpose the others dd not follow instantly instead they looked at one another nervously their eyes meeting in genuine concern and fear. Even now the scent of the deaths of the Templars began wafting down into the village, if this was what had happened, what would the strange wizard do next.
"Do you every worry…" Blackwall said finally.
"Sometimes," Varric said slowly.
"You knew Anders before the Chantry, was it anything like this?"
"Similar, but there are differences."
Are you not worried we will see a repeat of what happened to Kirkwall" Varric raised an eyebrow but didn't give an immediate answer, the point was moot. Kirkwall had been different and now the Mage Templar was had already started and was now coming to an end. In fact, he wouldn't even call it a war so much as a case of a few Templars who had yet to be brought to heel cowering in the most distant parts that they could find as they were hunted and killed.
"Kirkwall is doubtful to happen, not unless the Circles are ever restored, ad we both know the main obstacle that would face that"
"Vivienne could take the place as a leader" Blackwall said though with some small hesitation as though he could not believe his own words. Again however Varric looked at the wizard that was now leading the party up the icy slopes, there were no more Templar forces left in the area, any who had been alive were now dead and any who had watched the situation were more bound to report details then they were to risk a suicidal charge.
"Not without support she wouldn't, and we all know she would need the Inquisitor's help"
"And she does what her second in command wants," Dorian said aptly, not even really bothering that the Chevalier was hearing all this, if something very important came up, then there were ways of ensuring the man wouldn't speak.
"Exactly."
"Wait you're saying that in practice he leads the Inquisition, but he's only a child. Surely things can not be that dire to be leaving the fate of the world in the hands of one so young" Michel stated clearly as he looked into the distance, it was not unknown for some younger nobles to fight, and lead, even die on the fields of war, by the Inquisition was not some small military force of a few soldiers, it was arguably the most powerful fighting force the world had known, one that was able to create massive supplies, weapons and crush their opponents in combat with ruthless efficiency. To hear that a child was the true leader was absurd, ridiculous.
"He must have it planned out from the beginning. He knew the Inquisitor would be selected and he used that time to get close to her so when she was finally put in command, he would rise with her. Sneaky, dam nobles"
"I can hear every word you are saying, perhaps it might be best to wait to when we're not in the same party to chat shit" Turning back around the bend the party could only stop and stare blushes and guilt on their faces as the wizard appeared right next to them staring. He had heard every word of their doubts and frustrations though it was nothing he was not already aware of. "Now come, the Templars look like they're trying to pull back all their remaining forces back to the castle, it seems they want to siege us out"
Gesturing to the distance, the others were able to watch as they saw the sun glimmer off the steel of the Templars armour as they did exactly what the wizard said. Breastplate and sword were the obvious things, but their shields and other clothing stood out like a lighthouse in the black of night. True they ran away from there positions, soldiers rushing from crouched hidden locations in the brush clutching bows tight to their chest as the faint sound of some kind of horn began to sound out. In the distance, they saw their main destination, an old castle, one that the templars had seemingly deigned to actually repair, whether to remake their old ghostly fortress as a mockery of their glory, or whether instead for simple survival. Either way, it mattered little as the Templar banners fluttered in the wind, a large eyesore for any who saw that sword with flames
"If our target is anywhere it's bound to be in that castle" Nat reported as he began to count the rapidly increasing amount of Templars, it was getting easier to tell the newer ones from the older as those who had joined the service later were now all sporting red lyrium veins on their body. Some were giant crystals that were stuck on the chest others looked like vile tendrils and tentacles that wrapped around them in some type of vile manner, glowing in its malevolent radiant power.
"There's got to be several hundred," Michel said in rising alarm as the horizon began to be filled with them.
"Is that all?" Nat said in a bored manner as he continued to watch them all rush towards what they believed would be their sanctity.
"What you've got to be joking, attacking, that many, it's suicide, if they were separated, then maybe, but several hundred will just-"
"Die as easily as the rest of their pathetic order. I'll have that castle destroyed and the Templars dead and routing within the next couple of hours.
"Uhm, kid we don't have the artillery, that could take days… weeks"
"I don't need artillery, I created that to make things easier, not because I actually need it. Even if the walls were made by dwarves they would be useless, they'll be rubble soon enough and those who aren't killed by explosions will find themselves in tight contained quarters where fast movement and manoeuvrability is a problem. Set a good enough fire and those who aren't killed by rubble will either burn or choke to death. Once we've dealt enough damage and take the strength from the enemy, we'll then move in and proceed to kill the rest as their disoriented and their morale is obliterated. Well that and after we've tried contingencies"
"Contingencies," The others said in alarm if Tempest was planning on a frontal assault, what was he planning on doing before then" Looking in alarm they could only recede to rush after the young wizard as he continued up the path seemingly unconcerned about anything else their mind ablaze.
It was a fairly disturbing day for the one Templar soldier, one moment things had been relatively quiet, the cavalry had been sent out to deal another prodding attack on the Inquisition to work out their reaction time before they sent their full force to clear them out less they establish a permanent foothold and the next the sky sounded as if a terrible storm has arrived. It had all been a flurry of activity that he was barely able to keep up with, rumour had it that some mage had been sent, an Inquisition elite team that they liked to send. That in itself was disturbing given how such teams had a reputation of being able to achieve dangerous aims, but supported by modern weaponry only made things harder for everyone involved in the fight. Still, as he heard the footfalls of his fellow soldiers, men and women who had decided to fight for what was right, joining Corypheus strange army and the strange being called Imshael. There he and the soldier waited for this crack group, in small separate teams they could be defeated, but as a single solid wall, with a castle and hundreds of archers, the enemy would fall.
So as he kept his eyes on the distance his attention-catching on the darkly dresses individuals as they continued up the snowy paths, he waited with bated breath. They walked, seemingly casually at first as though they were not concerned, eventually though they reached a point in the distance where, four of their number held back, far out of the range of arrows and allowed the last of their group, the smallest to walk forward.
The Templar was not concerned instead he simply clutched his bow and prepared to lose an arrow. As he the figure got closer though he noticed that the one wearing black was not a dwarf as he initially believed, but human and a young one at that, they wore no armour and held no staff instead keeping only a sword at his waste one of those firearms on his back and another one at his side. Yet despite this, he had not drawn them instead, keeping his hands entirely free and in sight.
A symbol of good faith he realised, and so did their sergeant as slowly he lowered his arm as the boy got into range, it appeared the boy wanted to talk, but why. Did the others think that by sending the youngest of their party that he would be spared if talks went sour? Still, the Templar obeyed his sergeant's orders, his bow still kept knocked with an arrow but lowered to showcase no outward hostility even if they were cautious.
"That's enough" The crackly voice of an older warrior called out from the centre of the balcony. "What do you want Inquisition dog, do come for surrender?"
"Yes actually" The Templar blinked the voice was very young, though with no concern in the world at all even as the stranger continued to drink the tea the warm beverage in his hand. It made the Templar only feel colder in fact. "In hopes to prevent any further bloodshed I am giving you and your men the chance to lay down your weapons, surrender to the Inquisition where you will be taken and interned as prisoners of war."
"You and what army, five soldiers are not enough to take down this fortress, not when arrayed against seven hundred fighting men of the Templars. Go back boy, we give you our own grace t survive the conflict. The ancient one will win, take this time to enjoy time with your family on us" Looking at the sergeant in the eye, all in the castle suddenly felt a horrid creeping sensation of despair, why it decided to reveal itself none could quite know or just why, but when not eyes bit rather a strange black device met the commanders gaze, the Templar on watch felt as though his chest was tightening, crushing him from the inside.
"Please forgive my rudeness sir, but may I please have your name," The boy said in a polite tone offering up a small noble smile as his well refined and graceful speech came through.
"I am Thomas Brackle, commander of this Templar Garrison. I would advise you against such brash action we are undefeatable as we are, not even if the whole might of the Inquisition, Thedas and Parvollen was to fight us here would we lose in our righteous cause. We are the unbroken, the pure ones, we will fight to the death and have killed countless foes, should you chose to attack your head will join those of others who have been foolhardy." It was not arrogance that spewed forth from the commanders' words, but confidence, the commander was from the old guard and had served at least forty years, he had seen the best and worse that mages had to offer and had put more than his fair share down. In the line of his duty, he had taken many wounds none of which were more apparent to all bar the fact that half his face had become disfigured, an injury taken by a particularly angry fire mage, she had killed the rest of the commander brothers and had nearly done the same to him. He had killed her however and had never lost a battle since, this would be no different the younger Templar thought "Now Boy Tell us your name, tell us the name the Inquistion hides behind in communication. If you surrender we promise you will not be harmed, the Elder one is fair and you will hold a great future within out service"
The boy smiled, amused by the offer. Turning his face down the Templars watched cautiously as the boy clutched the side of his sword using it as some form of rest as a chuckle emanated from them. It was only short and soon after the neutral expression the boy had worn greeted to meet the Captain this time however it kept the same neutral but also the confident expression on his face. Then out of nowhere, he gave an exaggerated mocking bow before speaking.
"My name" The boy barely whispered before continuing. "I am Nathanael Tempest, second in command of the Inquisition, the Lord Commander of the Inquisitions forces, Lord of house Tempest and Ambassador of the United Kingdom." Suddenly before the Templars could even react the once quiet voice had become loud and clear, able to be heard by all in the area, so loud was the voice in fact that those nearest at it struggled not to covert their ears, only the glance of veterans and possible punishments stopping them. "I ask once again that you surrender and lay down your arms, there has ben blood. Refuse and I shall be forced to take action against you… and We all know how that will turn out. To show I am serious however I will give you thirty minutes, those who lay down their weapons and surrender will be taken in and arrested, all those who refuse shall die. If any of you wish to still fight and have any final words or a letter you wish to reach a loved one. Write it in a letter and I shall do my best to have it passed on."
There was a feeling of utter disbelief that passed through the ranked mass of Templars as they heard the offer followed shortly by a range of emotions Some looked incredulous or moved to clear out their ears as though they thought they had misheard something and needed it to be repeated to make sure that were not going insane. Others looked around in relief and then nervously not knowing how their fellows might feel if they saw them considering this very rare offer. Others looked on at the wizard in disgust their bows pulled to the ready and prepared to fill the enemy with so many holes they couldn't possibly escape. Some however including the commander was unable to stop the look of pure and utter loathing and as their finger stitched that desire to let loose the arrow it took all of the commander's strength to not release and launch the attack. There were others though when hearing the news felt one emotion above all over.
Dread
Panic ensued in some of the ranks, cold hearts lost all courage and glanced at one another in utter and abject fear. How in the name of the Maker could they survive, this was "The Enemy" Not just some random mage but rather the lone individual who had decimated their ranks months ago, skewering and displaying their bodies in front of the house of the Maker themselves as if they were meat used for darkspawn. Nobody had survived, not even the Grey Wardens as the vast majority had been laid low, their grandest of allies eviscerated in a day from the attack led by this boy.
And he was here now, like the grim raper staring bored at their next set of souls to be taken to oblivion.
As some men took to fearing for their lives looking anxiously around them, other instead took action, whether it was to knock their arrows as they waited for their commander to give the order or for others to rush across the gate, the future was decided shortly. Stopping the commander did not loose instead exposing his back bracing himself for instant death he dared to look at the men around him and saw the conflict. Some he could see would fight with him to the end, the old veterans who would never let the tyranny of magic take over, while others had already seemingly collapsed in panic. There were the old and the young, those who would fight and those who had had enough, some of whom were mere children, who now feared what was going to happen. Slowly he turned back towards the Wizard and lowered his head as he thought. After a small amount of time, he closed his eyes feeling the pain of it and allowed the shiver of the snowy wind to cover over him before speaking.
"You promise you will not kill them, that you will take them, prisoner?" Nat nodded firmly his attention on the man.
"Enough people have already died already, so long as they are willing to accept what has happened, then I see no reason to kill them unless they have committed some great crime" There was a hesitation from the commander as he knew what that meant. The boy would let the standard soldier of the Templars survive, the new ones or those who had not played a larger part to play in the war or the overzealous, but those who had carried out deeds like the torture of mages would be put to death. Despite knowing what that meant he nodded his head, it was acceptable and perhaps what might have happened had they won though in their case every mage would have been put to the sword who did not pledge fealty to the Ancient One.
"I will allow those who wish to leave to do so Tempest and place them under your arrest, however, I and those who decide will stay and defend this place. I ask simply that you give me time to address them and for them to say goodbye"
"I accept Commander" With a heavy heart and looks of utter incredulity from his men, the commander did not take any time in turning around and giving the order. Any Templar who wished to leave so and be put under arrest would be allowed to leave and no other member would be allowed to stop them. The commander was split as time went on and he watched those who accepted give their final goodbye, he had wished that all would stay, that their hearts would be strong enough to stand to the end, that even if they were all to die to the great enemy that their names and their deeds would be remembered. Yet on the other hand as he watched teary faces say their goodbyes, he could not feel some small amount of relief, a few would survive, whether or not they had been dishonoured was not known yet for the war was yet to be won.
As the surrendering Templars filed out however those remaining on the battlements, a grand total of four hundred men watched nervously expecting some sort of ambush or attack from the wizard. They expected t watch the men be engulfed, crushed by magic or blown to pieces, instead, all that they could see was they were allowed to walk into the hands of the soldiers in red as one by one they were searched down by the wizard for any weapons before they were then placed in handcuffs, which when they were all done began to be marched down the hill until finally, they were out of sight.
"Why," Blackwall asked. Nat turned to the man though he made sure to keep one eye on the fortress. "We've seen you, why would you let them go, after all, that you've done so far" It was not accusatory not even with how rough the tone was, instead it was an honest question. "Why would you not set an ambush"
"I… I… do not know. It is no sense of honour or chivalry, nor is it some great overwhelming desire to save life."
"Then why. You have killed more for less, what stayed your hand?" Nat turned back to the fortress his face was still blank his mind was running. There was no noble cause, no sense of a conscience, he was tempted to have laid a trap, out somewhere in the wilderness, have the Templars all be put to death the moment they were far enough away, yet he could feel there was something stopping him.
"The coming war Blackwall"
"What?" It was Michel sho spoke his face full of confusion.
"I may not be around, if I wipe out every single one of our enemies, I may win this war, but what about the next and the one after that. The Qun will attack once Coryphaeus is gone, Thedas will be war and if it is not the Qun, then perhaps Fen Harel. I could die later in this war. If that is the case I need to ensure that measures are in place. It is hard to get previous enemies to fight alongside you against a greater foe if there is no one to speak to. And the Templars are needed, like the Wardens. Their numbers have to be culled, to be weakened for a time to force them to reflect, to change, but they are needed. And now I can remove any sought of emotion when I kill those in the castle, I gave them their choice, they made theirs and I can respect that. Now are you with me?"
There was no real response the others could give other than to nod their heads sullenly as they prepared for the carnage that was going to take place in. Absently Varick stared at the Templars who were now being marched, prisoners of war. The Kid had tried at least. As such he drew Bianace already expecting to hear the sounds of explosions to rip through his ear as the kid would no doubt begin working his magic on the enemy to blast them apart.
"Hey might want to cover your ears, this part gets pretty loud" The dwarf warned Michel. Nodding Michel did as he was warned to and followed the actions of the others as they braced themselves against what cover they could find. Even as Dorian laid a barrier spell over them, it was hard not to notice as Blackwall moved his shield upwards and angled it in a way which was more likely to deflect rather than outfight block anything that may come towards it such as the million shards of debris that were about to fill the sky. Taking the action as a sign or warning the Chevalier moved quickly to another larger rock that would help him cover from the blast if magic was about to be hurled apart he wanted all the protection he could find.
Upon the walls, the Templars waited with nervous trepidation as they like all others could sense the coming bloodshed. This was their time they knew, whether their sacrifice would be a story told in glory forevermore as the held and beat back the Butcher or instead known as some of the last resistance that was crushed underneath the bootheel of the Inquisition was undecided, but they all knew it would be decided in hours. Bracing themselves against the wall, all bows were drawn and taught with an arrow as they prepared to lose the volley they waited, mentally preparing themselves for death.
In contrast, where the Templars were filled with grim determination Nat simply looked at the Castle in a bored manner, he already knew the weak points, which walls had cracks, which one where were he to send the right amount of force they would crumble and crack. It mattered not, this was a demonstration of power as they all knew it, he would break the Templars here, their last hold, from this day forward any Templars who survived, would be wanderers, their home and past lives eviscerated.
With a simple series of waves of his wand, al around watched as the first moves were taken, not by a predominately powerful blast of magic that shook the heavens above, but rather by the rapid movement in snow. Quickly the white substance lifted up called by the command of the wizard where flying by his side they began to split and take form as more and more snow was piled on. First, there were two piles then four, then eight and it repeated until finally there were twenty, all of whom rapidly took the shape of human-like beings only made of ice and in their hands were blades of clear ice that gave of a sound of constant crackling like a horrid icy laugh. When their forms were complete their emotionless faces simply stood to attention their swords lent against their shoulders as their ice shields were prepared for them, then like true-born soldiers of a real military, they marched into positions angling their own shields as they then marched in a solid manner unexpected of such snow golems until they halted a small distance away from the castle.
Even as the snow golems, smaller than average more akin to a human in size lined up ready for battle, the Templars well within range began to pepper them with all the arrows they had. Loud commands were given and arrows flew through the air impaling into the ice golems however as one could guess nothing happened,. Ice golems were not made of flesh and blood and so did not even consider the arrows to be there. This first barrage, however, was only a testing series a plan to see just a probing attack. Within a few minutes, other Templars ran to the top of the walls carrying small unlit braziers full of wood while others carried new quivers all full of new arrows.
Understanding immediate, the Templars naturally lit these new braziers as they were placed by their feet the warm and sudden flame not only reminding them of happier days in the warm sun of summer but also showcasing their hatred of everything of the enemy that came. When the fires were lit they grasped their new arrows plunging them into the dancing flames feeling a sense of safety and power as the end of their bows flickered with orange torchlight. They aimed at the snowmen.
And then all the flames went out.
Stunned the Templars stared at their bow arrows in shock, these had been dipped in special oils that helped the fire catch better, their training had always made sure that would never accidentally burn themselves for not even the cold winds of winter could extinguish these flames. Yet they had just done so, desperate they tried again but to their shock and horror, they had found that the flames themselves had also gone out, and no attempt to relight them would work leaving them fireless in the days early afternoon sun.
Nat stared at the men atop the walls, hopefully, some of them would have realised by now that there was no chance for peace this battle had already been won by him, it was best if they surrendered. Yet they refused to do so instead, one more ineffective volley was sent at the snow golems and once again those that stuck just went through the snow or caught in their bodies un-hindering them in the slightest. Seeing that their arrows were not working the Templars stayed there, their eyes alert as they kept their attention on the young wizard, they expected him to charge forward into their own trap, fight them in close range.
Nat instead simply with a wave of his hand summoned forth all the weapons that every Templar had on them all at once. Again utter Shock ran through the Templars as they found themselves now unarmed and one very bored wizard. A few trying to fight the power activated their lyrium that flowed within their veins, but not even the power to mitigate the power of the Fade could do anything about the magic that had no connection to it and so they only exhausted themselves.
"You can surrender," Nat said gesturing towards the hundreds of weapons that now lay stacked along the ground to both of his sides. The Templars had no daggers, no swords, spears, bows, or anything that they could use, they were now just a bunch of less than four hundred men whose only hope was to kill the enemy with their fists. In response to the cry of the wizard, the Templars instead grabbed anything they could get, whether it was in the form of rocks, cooking utensils, wooden poles, nets or anything that they had left laying around, they still refused to give in.
Again Nat sighed, he was here for the bloody demon, not for the Templars. Besides these were people, he may have hated the Templars but these were not darkspawn, this was not the destruction of crazed beasts, some kind of pest across the world that needed to be put down, they were people and for once he was in such a position of power that the amount of enemy dead did not have to be considered, they were the last vestiges.
"Please" Nat intoned again.
"We shall fight to the end" The commander replied in a gruff tone, preparing himself for the wizard to come in and charge them all, to give them a glorious death worth of song. What he and the rest of his men did not expect was for all their suddenly found and makeshift weapons to be ripped away from their hand just as their real weapons were and then to be deposited on the ground. Now there was nothing left for the men, but instead of surrendering, Nast could only watch behind a neutral face even if he did feel exhausted as the next moment the commander disappeared from the rooftops only to then be replaced by the sight of the main castles old sturdy gates to open wide and the commander to be at the front with a host of Templars.
"Oh you have got to be joking"
"Charge" With balled-up fists strong enough to beat a mans face in, the Templars as a single group rushed forth from their stone castle, outnumbering the wizard several hundred to one they charged their metal covered feet shaking the icy ground as they approached. Great battle cries could be heard as men did their damndest to showcase the wrath of their brethren to the wizard, to promise a painful death. There was only one of him after all and several hundred, what hope did a single mage have when arrayed against the vast might of the Templars, even as unarmed as they were.
Shaking his head, however, Nat turned towards the others in the background still taking cover. He ha heard their words earlier, he was not Anders, he had tried to give them a chance, asked them to surrender and lay down their arms multiple times and give up. They would get to live that way and not be killed, but still, they refused. Could he now at least get them to admit that he had at least tried diplomacy that this was on the Templars heads, the last thing he needed was for his reputation as a Butcher to only be even more exaggerated. They said nothing leaving him only to stare at the incoming Templars as with angry fervour they charged towards the snow golems.
Seeing this horde of enemies the snowman locked their shields together tightly and took a strong formation as they prepared their swords to thrust in the tiny gaps into the Templars armour and kill them. In other scenarios such a warrior may have been useful to the Templars or perhaps they would have considered them demons as well and designed to have them killed, instead they charged.
"Fuck it, I tried" With the Templars all rushing via one doorway, in long straight lines filled with men, they offered too much of a tempting target to pass up. Raising his wand upwards he levelled it onto the first collum of men, the front of which was now trying to fling his fists at the snow golem as he was held back by the shield waiting for the order to be allowed to stab. That order was never given, one moment the snow golems head stared down emotionally at the small human that was currently trying to club it with its meaty fists, the next I'ts snow face exploded in a shower of snow as a heavy ball of metal, smashed straight though and into the first human behind it.
Slaughter was the only way to describe what hat happened, that or bowling. When faced with a ball hurtling at you at tremendous speed packing a large amount of mass. The result was a long line of Templars found themselves being turned into an utter bloody pulp as entire heads Were smashed and even as the ball lowered due to gravity, the deaths from heads explosions changed to that of the neck and then onto the chest as large cannon ball-sized holes preceded to eviscerate the first column.
"Andraste" One of the Templars in utter chock could only freeze his entire body going cold as he looked at nothing more than a streak of blood and gore. "Oh Maker, have mercy" He collapsed to his knees, bile filling his throat before then grabbing his stomach as he lost all sense of control over his gut and vomited over the dead. Such a decision was what would spare the mans life as the immediate collapse allowed him unlike the rest of his order to survive as five more cannon shots ran out in swift order each on the different line and completed the exact same action.
Michel stared horrified his mouth agape at the slaughter. Now all that was left of the Templar force was a mere handful of Templars, all of whom had now collapsed to the floor crying. In less than a span of a minute from when he had fired his first spell, the wizard had just killed several hundred men and women without any mercy or hesitation.
"If anyone wants to surrender" Nat repeated in a dry tone, not at all bothered as he preceded to casually stride into the now captured castle over the corpses of hundreds of men. Here they lay the last great garrison of the Templars, on their knees, lounged against the side of the castle's walls their hands clutching desperately to their chests and bodies as they tried to stop the blood from rushing out and feel their life slip away.
"You're, you're a monster" Spitting the words out Nat turned to face the direction of the one who was so brave to talk even with defeat now utterly on the,. The one who spoke, was a bald scarred woman, clutching her stomach he noticed that there was a large stake of wood where dark crimson blood was now pouring.
"I'm the monster," Nat said amused. "And what gave you that idea" The woman simply glared at them, the bodies of her dead compatriots seemingly not enough to drive the point home to the one who had inflicted so much damage to their order.
"You kill so many and don't feel a thing"
"And why would I, you were my enemy and I gave you all the chance to surrender" The Templar stared at the mage in front of her, even as she felt her life force ebbing away, she did not let up the glare now could she find her utter hatred of the boy in front of her as he simply looked at her uncaring, as though she was nothing to him, not even an insect meant to crush.
"To serve you" She spat at home hoping to taint his black clothing with the blood of all those he had slain, but to her frustration, the blood simply vanished mid-flight.
"No, not that it matters. You call me monster Templar, but it was your lot who created the situation that led to this point"
"We didn't blow up the chantry" The woman hissed through her pain nearly screaming as she gripped the dart trying to rip it out of her. Perhaps if she could muster her strength, make one final attack.
"No, you simply imprisoned a group of people for no reason other than the fact that they were born different, that you deprived them of freedoms to destroy who they are to say that they are not human, that they are wrong."
"It was for their own good, they didn't know better" She tried to get a rise out of him, to see the great wizard angry, perhaps then the world would see this murderer for what he really was. Nat, however, was too smart for her ploy and instead simply smiled in a cold cruel manner.
"It matters not, this war is over for all effective purposes, the Templars have lost. Those who survive will be reformed after a severe purge of the most zealous members and those who refuse to surrender will be eliminated. You've lost the war"
"And are you happy, the deaths on your shoulders, they will haunt you forever, I will haunt your darkest dreams till the day you die"
"What and provide reminders of how I did the right thing." Nat mocked a dark and sadistic grin close-minded foreground "I will not allow these mages to be beaten and bullied by muggles simply because they fear their power. To have to flee their homes, to have to cower behind some sort of ban on interaction because muggles are too close minded and bigoted, to have to hear of stories from centuries ago as children were burned alive by their own parents, tortured and mutilated all because some people have an imaginary friend out for a book to tell them what to do simply because they never thought to think for themselves… Please do haunt my dreams, I shall enjoy the sensation of wiping out your kinds very existence again and again and-. Oh, she's dead, whatever good riddance"
Just as he had noticed the survivor was now dead, having taken her own life by ripping out the steak that had impaled her, even now as her face turned pale all warmth leaving her scarred battle-worn face Nat felt nothing but contentment. The woman had gotten what she deserved to be nothing, to die for the crimes she had committed against the mages and if she thought that she would be remembered heroically that she would have some last great moment of triumph she was utterly wrong, now her corpse joined the hundreds of others.
"By the Maker" After managing to pick himself through the gore and into the castle Michel his sword raised in a defensive position ready to defend himself lest there be any who had taken cover within deeper parts of the castle could only look in shock at the scene in front of him. With a single pistol raised in his hands, the Chevalier could only watch the harsh brutal reality as the wizard proceeded to walk over to each individual remaining survivor lower the weapon and then fire. One by one he killed them all without a sound, just utter icy efficiency. Despite this however as he saw the mess that had become the castle, he noticed that the mage was entirely untouched, not a single droplet, mark or scratch dared to defile the wizard's appearance, he was untouchable by dirt and grime as though it had no effect on him.
"I'm sorry to say our quarrel isn't here Michel, it appears the demon has retreated to another part of the valley, why he refuses to flee is unknown but no matter, we'll catch up to it soon enough." Michel didn't answer instead he simply watched as the wizard continued to move up to downed soldier and make sure they were dead. It was not unheard of for such action if often happened on the battlefield where the enemy would kill any peasant that was still left and in their waiting care, but those were peasants, these people.. they were Templars their skills made them valuable, but still to see how effortlessly the wizard had wiped them out, now he understood and feared.
How would he have defenders the Empress against such a foe? Fighting mages were tricky, nearly impossible even for a single soldier if you couldn't get the jump on them or get close fast enough to give that one strike, but what the Commander had displayed. Hundreds dead, the reputation of butchering the Templars within a single week and putting the fear of the Maker into them had not been a lie, except that it was not the Maker they should fear, but a single mage.
"Please, I have a wife… I promise, please" A Templar pleaded with the boy his tried face looking into the black material that covered the eyes of wizard. Nat did not care in the slightest instead he in a casual manner depicting his familiarity of the weapon borne far more out of having to initially teach soldiers then actually using it in battle, reloaded the weapon where once primed he lowered it so the barrel was now aimed squarely between the eyes. Then he gave a few moments as he had done so with all the others, giving that final chance to say their last words or to give a prayer to their god. The soldier panicked instead pleading again but his time was up and with a simple pull of the trigger the small metal ball was fired into the Templars skull killing them instantly. Nat did not even bother to look at the kill instead finding the next person alive, something he could easily sense with his magic and moving towards them. Seeing the death of their comrade the soldier instead looked the wizard in the eye understanding that his moment was over, the War was lost.
"I beg you, whatever you think of me, of us, please do not harm our families, they are innocent, they do not deserve your retribution" The tone was strong and solid, even in the face of their imminent danger.
"The sins of the father are not the sins of the son. I hold no grief, so long as they do not become a combatant I shall not seek to harm them."
"Thank you, at least now I get to go to the Maker, may he forgive me for my crimes and allow me to his side" As he closed his eyes preparing for the bullet, Nat considered for a moment about informing him that there was no maker or city to go to, that he would simply meet black, he would not think or feel anymore. It would be fair after all these people had done to tell mages that they would be punished for being born with magic, letting the man feel utmost terror and fear in his final moments would be fitting, yet despite this, the mans defeated pose said otherwise. What harm would it be for a man to think of a better thing in his final moments, so once the man was ready saying a final goodbye to his loved ones the bullet-like all the others struck the bone and ceasing his life.
It took about half an hour after the castle had been taken, the others of the party had in utter silence strode over the dead bodies simply listening occasionally jolting as they heard the sound of a pistol being fired as Nat finished off the survivors one by one after hearing their final words or prayers. It was an exceptionally long thirty minutes they believed and one that they all spent simply watching as the wizard moved alongside the battlefield. When they had all been killed, however, the wizard did not stop there.
Due to the nature of health and safety, such a large amount of bodies had to be disposed of safely and so the next few hours were again spent in the castle as a small number of Inquisition soldiers led by Harding advanced upon their new captured fortress ready to make it their new home base of operations. As they arrived, they noticed a very large fire pit where bodies upon bodies were laid. Finally, when it was completed and all the corpses had been stripped of the metal and armour and weapons all of which would be used for the war machine of the Inquisition, Nat lit the pyre watching intently as the fires caught and began devouring the bodies.
"What's our next move Kid," Varric said cautiously, as he approached the mage his eyes glimpsing constantly for anything from that blank emotionless face. When Nat turned to face him however Varric jumped slightly and felt a slither of terror strike his ice the back of his mind seemingly believing he would be cut down in an instant.
"The templars are destroyed, by now Imshael would have known, however from what I can tell he's still here. No doubt he is waiting for us to approach if he hasn't fled."
"What, why would he stay when we've destroyed all of his men and resources"
"Isn't it obvious" Nat replied as he began to direct his attention that he knew the demon was located in, the use of a point me spell as always being very clear. He still believes he can win, or there is something he want's"
"And what could that be, Most demons promise power but they take weak to really do anything effective" Nat shook his head at Dorian's comment.
"Not this one Dorian, this one is the exact opposite. It will figure out exactly what we want quickly and it will tempt us"
"You need to resist, this demon often tries to trap people by getting them to agree to a deal for the sake of others, it makes it easier for people" Michel interrupted cautiously, even now he could remember what it had felt like to be in the grip of that demon, one promise away from completing what it wanted.
"Okay but if we're trying to take it alive. What exactly do we need to do?" Blackwall inquired not liking the way the two who had apparently encountered this demon seemed to look at one another silently asking and answering questions.
"We will need to first break him in combat, he's too powerful and subtle tricks aren't going to be as effective, essentially we need to drain any magic he has. Once he has no way of resisting any magic I can put him down and that's when we get our answers, but even then I do not know if we can hold him"
"But the Archi"
"Is asleep and for good reason, We will have a very short window to get him when he's down, worse we need to ensure that even after the battle in case we need to knock it out and drag it with us, that we have to keep it powered down, otherwise the moment we wake it up it will regenerate its power and it's another battle again."
"Right, how exactly do we do that, it's not like we have any Templars on hand?" At the mention of Templars the others could only watch as out of those strange pockets the wizard had he pulled out a square intricate case. It was a rather special thing they could tell, though it was practical in design it had a series of runes on the outside that glowed with a rare amount of power. Opening the steel box, it was Dorian who first showed a reaction instantly clutching his chest as it tightened as though something was constricting it. Curious the others looked at their friend in alarm but Michel with wide-open eyes could only feel terror grow slightly as he realised that the wizard was not affected in the slightest.
"Given the situation of the mission, I brought these" Inside the box all the others could see were a set of beautifully handcrafted daggers, however, they were not made of steel as one might have initially expected but instead of Lyrium. Glowing blue lyrium yet there was something off about them, all of them could feel it.
"What's wrong with it"
"These were something the Templars were working on, ever since Kirkwall the Templars have found a way to shape lyrium in such a manner that it allows them to drain a subject of their magic. Of course, it doesn't work on powerful beings, you have to beat them down enough for the daggers to work, and given that the Templars main goal is to kill mages not capture them, well they kind of just left them alone"
"Then how did you find them" Closing the box Dorian suddenly felt better, once again his connection to the warp no longer felt broke, as though the barriers of reality that he could bring crashing down had been made solid instead of the smooth and malleable that he was so used to, the crashing storm of magic no longer still but once again flowing where he could sense it ever so close just behind the veil.
"Well, it helps that when you obliterate the Templars main fortress and go through all their little secrets they leave these things in the darkest whole under as many lock and keys as you can imagine. Truly the ferocity they defended these with could have taken attacking army years to siege and years more to crack the advanced puzzles and defences in order to access them"
"You killed them all and used that unlocking spell didn't you," Varric said in a knowing tone, now if only there was a way to turn that one spell into a physical item it would make things so much easier.
"Yeah, muggle defences aren't worth anything and given how Lyrium means bugger all to me… well I have them now hopefully they can do the job."
"Right, so we still have to attack an ancient demon whose older then Tevinter" Blackwall sighed after he asked, by the Maker, he was starting to understand just why it perhaps wasn't best to always follow the Inquisitor or her second in command. The normal soldiers got to do normal jobs. Whether it was killing bandits, or protecting a convoy or even killing a few demons to make the area safe. Not the commanders though, they had to lead full-scale charges, step into the Fade kill fucking archdemons and fight demons of incredible age like it was nothing.
"Well, that or we take a deal. Which trust me, a deal with a normal demon is bad enough, but I'm not going to take any chances with this demon. We need to strike hard and fast, it will be expecting us so there won't be any surprise attacks so we'll start with a small discussion, all of you bar Dorian and I will use that time to search for anything useful or to maybe rescue anyone would be stuck.
"Wait why are we the ones attacking, wouldn't it be better if we combined our attacks," Dorian said concernedly.
"Pointless, no offence to any of you guys but your weapons are going to do nothing other a slight bit of irritation, plus you might get in the way. Best if you check for anything while I and Dorian handle it with power. Speaking of which Dorian and the same goes for the rest of you if it looks like the fight is going badly, run. Do not stay, do not come to help me. Imshael is bloody powerful plus there's no point in all of us dying. I don't know whether I can kill it on my own, but I know that I can keep it occupied enough for you to escape and bring the Inquisitor if needed. I hope it doesn't come to that, but this is what we're facing. We are nearing the end of this war gentlemen, our actions in wiping out the Templars last major hold has driven a devastating blow to their manpower and with our troops closing in from other directions, Coryphaeus cannot have any sort of pitched battle, now without himself, his archdemon or Imshael involved. We've destroyed the walls of the fortress, now we need to go after the foundations before we storm the keep and take the king"
"You think you're close to winning the war?" Michel said, "Couldn't Coryphaeus just call more demons"
"Could yes, but we've hampered that idea severely. At the moment he's haemorrhaging everything and is desperate for some kind of weapon to fight back; which explains the other reason why I will need you to retreat if the battle goes ill. There's the possibility the pet archdemon may show up" At the mention of the archdemon the faces of the others went even grimmer than they already had done before. With the firelight flickering nearby their worries only seemed worse however but before they could say anything more there was even more news to come from the wizard.
"We aren't here simply to kill the Templars and Imshael, we're also here to cull the local dragon population"
"Ah to stop any reinforcements after his current archdemon is dead. That is your next target" Once again it was Blackwall who spoke up and again in his serious tone he seemed to be considering everything that was going up. Taking a sip of his ale kindly conjured by the wizard in their party he could not help a small chuckle and leaned back.
"Fucking hell kid, you really do have this entire war all planned. You knew you would be coming to kill the dragons as soon as you heard Imsahel was here didn't you" Nat nodded. "Which means that after Imshael that bloody dragon of his is next, you want to slowly remove every single asset Corypheus has before engaging him"
"Defeat in detail" Nat replied. "Charging him straight on whilst he has an army at his back, a dragon, an ancient demon, Templars, Grey Wardens and everything else would be suicide. But if we target areas of strategic importance, whittle down everything one by one and remove his power base, we restrict his options whilst increasing our own." Blackwall shook his head snuffing out a small amount of air.
"And here I thought you were only ever reacting to things, waiting for Coryphaeus to make his move."
"We have been reacting it's true, but that's out of caution. If we were in desperate need to take the fight to him we are in a position to do so, but we hold the advantages, best let Coryphaeus come to us. The fact that he hasn't since Haven shows he doesn't believe at all he has the power, not to mention by now he likely knows he has to act quickly, decisively and move straight afterwards. He only has a very minimal window of time to get anything done and any build-up of forces will be met with our own."
"But you've shown what you can do here, why not confront him yourself, surely after killing all the Templars, what you did to the Wardens, you could end the war in a matter of days" Blackwall argued. How could he not, at first like others he had doubted but the boy was powerful incredibly so, using wits and power to decimate the enemy he had likely save hundreds of Inquisition lives by being the main weapon, directing hatred towards him and allowing the standard soldier to survive.
"I mean no disrespect Blackwall, but in military terms, Muggles are nothing but cannon fodder. Get a wizard who knows what their doing, who can think properly and has the tactics, wits and scientific knowledge and they could single-handily fight and destroy a muggle army back home given enough time to rest and recover their magic. It's the same with me, I can slaughter Templars and wardens so easily because essentially I'm unstoppable, only magic will actually be of any use against me and naturally, the problem is that Coryphaeus is a mage of such raw power that even I'm wary of battling him one on one without preparation. I could likely contend with him to a certain degree, what exactly that is I don't know yet, but were he to have allies, the dragon or demon, or soldiers, whilst I'm distracted with Corypheus one of them could pull off something which could leave to my death and utter failure. Hence why we're focused on removing the small fish, one by one we get rid of anything that could assist him when that fight comes, we make sure it is him against everything we can throw at him."
"That's why you're concerned about Imshael because he's a threat to you," Varric said a foreboding feeling settling hin his stomach. Yes, Coryphaeus needed to be destroyed but when that happened who did that leave as the next most powerful, the kid? He looked at the wizard remembering all those he had killed without mercy and hesitation and he thought back to Anders. Both had been young, both had wanted to help and save people and both were very keen to kill to see those deeds done, only where Anders had started a war and fled seemingly content, the kid ended it and prepared for the next two.
"Yes, and unless when we confront Coryphaeus we found a way to keep him engaged at the same time in combat, he could very likely turn up during the fight and make trouble. One ancient demon was bad enough, but two of them, the faster we kill this thing the better"
"What do you suppose it will want" It was Michel who spoke this time, having broken his silence the Chevalier who had been listening all this time walked towards the group his eyes full of doubt. This was no ordinary demon they were hunting, this was one who had slaughtered an entire Dalish clan as if it was nothing, who made sport of killing elves, one who used trickery and deceit. How could he not trust that the wizard would not make an offer if it was given to him?
"Other than letting it live, the creature will no doubt want the blood to be spilt, whether it is mine or yours, or someone else's. It will offer me the knowledge I want and if it does not want me to kill something It will want a sacrifice of some kind one that involves a high price tag that I think would be a fair trade for victory in this war"
"Travel to your homeland perhaps" Dorian interjected. Nat paused at the idea and considered it, he would have to be very careful with the demon. His immediate response would be to reject Dorians claim, the last thing he wanted was to bring a demon home since for all he knew demons, unlike mages, would still be able to access their power in his own dimension, then there was the fact that if it did come home it would have a far mor luxurious world to play with. The raw chaos it could provide, he hated the idea of letting something like Imshael getting into contact with nuclear weapons via a corruptible head of state. On the other hand, though that could be exactly what the demon wanted, a flat out rejection which would mean his offer would have to be accepted, the offer that Imshael truly wanted.
"Bah, what does it matter you've already said that we don't intend to talk, only defeat it and take it hostage" Blackwall huffed as he slunk down to the ground his back leaning against a part of the rubble wall where the cannonball had struck. Glancing to it he shook his head, why the kid was so concerned where he had already demonstrated his power was beyond him.
"We need to take into account all possibilities, failure to do so is likely to resolve in sever defeat or casualties. During the battle it may be able to separate us and tempt us, all of the need to know what could be offered so we can best reject it. Also, make sure to guard yourselves, other then trickery this is a demon who more then likely has the ability to read the mind, it will know exactly what you are intending to do as you plan it. Be prepared to take one action and just before you implement it take another"
"What about artillery, we could use it to soften up the demon before we strike?"
"We're trying to capture not kill, plus the fact that the artillery is helping out the regular troops with the prisoners, I'd rather not risk a revolt unless we can help it."
"That could be the main problem Kid, if you're putting too much hope that we can simply beat the demon long enough for us to demand our questions, how do you even know it may succeed. Wouldn't it be smarter to simply kill it? Or and this is a terrible but perhaps needed idea, take up a deal" Once again Nat narrowed his attention the dwarf, they were not ideas he hadn't already considered and planned out, he had already made contingencies, but even then the idea of what he was saying did not sit well.
"Still you have other methods don't you"
"Yes," Nat answered truthfully. "But its not a manner in which we can't be sure we're just pushing the problem later down the line. If it absolutely comes to it, then kill the demon, but that is the last resort. For all, we know getting this information could be vital to winning the war. It's why I chose you, out of all those available to me and not needed elsewhere, You're the four most trustworthy and skilled that I can rely upon"
The admission of trust took the three other members of the advisors, never once had Nat said he had trusted anyone, said that they were competent and skilled yes, but trusted enough that they were the ones who were chosen for a crucial mission? It was unheard of and though they tried not to, they could not help the feeling of satisfaction and pride that came with their shock. But on the other hand, after their initial sense of pride began to left them, they then took around and began to note some very obvious people missing. Nat could have brought everyone had he wished that were not needed elsewhere, the fact that he hadn't spoken volumes.
"Dorian when the fight ensues, do your best to study and analyse the magic, if anything happens having a clue on how to beat Imshael if the Inquisitor or the others come will be vital, not to mention it's possible that Coryphaeus may gain other such demons in his employ, we have to know how to best fight them. Varric before we confront the demon tomorrow I want you to scout ahead, be very cautious and don't get close, I just want to see if the demon has any backup. Blackwall, Michel, though your main responsibility is to check for any other survivors, should that fail or there be none, you are to provide assistance if possible but again be careful and don't get in mine and Dorians way, also should backup arrive, either through a rift or by returning Templars, let us know if possible and then try to contain them, do not aim for wiping them out if there's a large group, simply attempt to stop them from reaching out position. In the meantime if you can get some sleep we'll confront the enemy tomorrow, I want everyone to be fully rested if possible."
With the orders stated Nat moved quickly away from the others and instead headed inside into what remained of the fortress that had been taken over by the Templars and since liberated. Like most of the castles, it was an older place constructed long ago likely perhaps at the dawn of the Dalish elves back when they first moved here and made this place theirs. It mattered not, now any old architecture had since been replaced with the standard human look, practical, rather than neat or incredibly strong. It also smelt of blood likely from the prisoners who had been taken and killed by the Templars and the taste of the air was a foul thick substance, one that made him instantly clean it with magic as he continued to travel along through the thin corridors and winding staircases. Soon enough however he finally reached his destination a small room.
It wasn't a large place, this was a medieval castle after all and such things were expensive to construct, yet it would do his purpose well as he found a small rickety wooden table on the side where next to it, lay a small candle unlit. Sitting himself down he gently touched the top of the candle and pressed his fingers against the wick, as soon as he did so a small flame came to life dancing for a moment as the air flew into it before then sitting stable as it provided enough light. With the scene then set the wizard took out a piece of paper and a pen and began writing. It was a report, one which was to be sent as a physical copy to the Inquisitor of the events that had happened here. Under other circumstances, he may have used magic to give her a call, but with the final preparations in place as they prepared for a siege in the Dales, there was a large amount of paperwork that had to be done, especially in regards to politics to ensure that Celene would be there to command her army as a symbol of her pledge to the cause.
The report did not take long to complete they very rarely did, a note stating that they had done the initial job od removing the Templars form the region, informing the Inquisitor that there would be a band of prisoners moving to join them up at the castle. They were pretty sure that Imshael the target was in the area and that if they were successful with the capture of him, that they would move onto this set of objectives that were wiping out any local dragons to ensure that Coryphaeus could not use them.
When it was finally finished, he folded the piece of paper and then put it within the envelope and closed it, where with a simple spell he enchanted it turning it into a bird with the strict orders to fly to the Inquisition in the form of a white raven. Finally, alone he sighed and leaned back against the chair as a sense of growing dread begin to take place.
"Sweet Merlin what have I got myself into" Taking another small sip as he leaned back against the rickety old chair his attention turning outwards to the open window at the side he stared at the sky. It was a pretty sight, all those shimmering suns, lights that were millions, if not billions of years old reaching him and twinkling in the distance. He wondered if one of them was his sun, it may have been small and insignificant given the scale of the universe but even so he wished he had something of home.
Lost in his thoughts, the wizard slowly began to push aside everything as his mind both raced and relaxed, it would only be the next morning when the sun was rising the peaks of its bright day peering over the cracks did the wizard realise had spent so much time focusing on the battle ahead.
Suledin Keep
It was a fairly pleasant day to capture a demon, the birds were singing the colours were gone and the sun was shining so brightly that the glare in some soldiers eye shad them struggling to do their jobs. However, for the group of five making their way to the demon, the mood was anything but cheery. It was not grim, they had gone over the plan in the morning, but the weight of this mission bared on the minds of all. If they succeeded and they were able to get the information they wanted, then the war could be close to over and the Inquisition would have those final key details to destroying Coryphaeus once and for all, however, if they lost they could subject Thedas to years of a brutal slog as the Inquisition was forced again and again to defeat foe after foe.
"He's here," Nat said slowly as they began to ascend the steps, as they did so all easily noticed the rather sudden emergence of a high amount of red lyrium that grew like twisting tumours around the stonework, wrapping around constructing it and seemingly trying to draw all life into its blood-red hue.
With a nod from the others, Michel, Blackwall and Varric split up and moved around the back leaving space for the two magic wielders to confront the demon. And as Dorian and Nat ascended the steps their eyes instantly locking onto the single solitary figure standing in the midst of the courtyard, dead bodies, and red Lyrium surrounding him, they both prepared their spells, Nat starting with a strong solitary move while Dorian got ready to provide support by casting a barrier.
They were going to have to be quick they both knew, no sense of hesitation, no slowness, no folly, they had maybe one single shot to strike the enemy, take it down before they were engaged in battle and end this quickly without destruction on a large scale and possible casualties. As they continued to ascend the stares their magical of foci ready to go, the two looked at one another both asking without saying a word not only if they were ready but if they wanted to back out, when neither of them said a word their eyes meeting one another with a cold by shared upon agreement, they crawled the last few steps and the fight began.
There was no warning for Imshael, one moment he was sensing the incoming arrival of the group as they crept closer to them believing in their arrogance that they were being stealthy that he would not know of their plan, that he did not notice that they were sending their weaker non-mages around his side in an effort to try and search for something they considered important. Despite this rather little cute attempt by the mortals to circumnavigate him, he was more curious on the presence of the Mage and whatever was accompanying him.
What it was he could not tell, there saw something strange about the magic, as though it was trying to conceal its very presence from him, it was working to an extent he could not feel just what was coming up, he did not know if the person behind that veil was young or old, male or female, human or elf, but he did know they were there for as much as they were able to hide themselves the were not able to hide the small fluctuations in the magic that kept them from his senses.
Curiously he waited a small grin on his face, just what deal he could he propose to these individuals, what tournament of torture could he inflict on them, that delicious sensation that would emanate from their emotions that he could feed on as he drove them towards a desperate bargain, feeling all that guilt, and regret, all that self-doubt as they fought against their emotion. This mage, that he could sense was young, prideful and full of power, he longed for the challenge, however, his mind was more interested in the mortal who even if flawed was seemingly able to mask their identity. He turned his face a cruel and vicious smile laid upon it, they would bargain they always wanted and if they believed themselves stronger, well.. he glanced to the desecrated bodies of dead templars laying across the ground their bodies infected with red lyrium that used their body as fuel to grow and grow, leaving them in utter agony as they became nothing more then a geological feature.
As they crested the top of the hill however the demon expecting to see the faces of these two mages, what met the demon was not the appearance of a mage but instead swiftly and suddenly there was a bolt of energy bursting forward with incredible speed. Reacting instantly his hand raised as he called forth the power of the fade allowing instantly as the glowing bolt of magical energy flamed into his barrier with the force of a giants mace striking so loudly and so harshly that around him the ground obliterated.
Stone, dirt, dust, metal, red lyrium and templar corpse all became a cacophony of shredding sharp wicked and deadly debris rocketed into the sky at an incredible pace blasting and blinding and utterly hammering into the shield as if it were a thousand tiny daggers all trying to press against the barrier at once. A deep and thunderous roar like that of a hundred cannons struck the ear hammering in sound waves causing the demon pain as he winced and took a step back. It was as if someone had used the equivalent of a battering ram against a small door the force of that spell causing him to step back fasten his feet to the floor as he felt the barrier shimmer around him still strong.
That was all within a mere moment as still under shock from the first blow did another strike land followed by another like a rapid succession of heavy blasts with a Warhammer did the earth and area around them shake with such fury that the debris has no time to settle and the ground cracked underneath the weight of force that was delivered. However, for all this power the barrier merely shimmered holding back the force of blows well even as more strikes landed. First from the front then they began to strike around the side, trying to blow past his flanks and hit in vain some type of rear defence. Imshael turned instantly his eyes and senses soon locking onto the source of these blasts. Try as this mage might they were not able to hide the location from where such a raw amount of magic emerged and continued to blast him so loudly it was if a city made entirely of cathedrals were ringing in his ear.
The demon felt his anger rise and blood begin to boil as his near-perfect eyebrows narrowed and levelled a glare that could kill a deer stone dead. The dust and fog of war proved nothing to the demon who summoning his power merely waved his hand and dissipated it sending it with the wave of a powerful gust of wind to blow it all over to showcase the battlefield in all it's battered and devastated glory. There as the wind blew apart the dust the demon landed it's fade born eyes on its attackers and he could only grin.
There in front of him was both a familiar and unfamiliar sight, that of a small young mage, dressed in all black a stern expression on his face unblinking, emotionless nothing more than the stone look that had surrounded them.
Before Imshael could even call out to the boy however with his mind to peer in or instead to call out however he could only brace himself as the boy loosed another spell that slammed into his barrier, this time Imshael simply strengthened his barrier, feeling delighted as the spell simply rebounded off his shoulder and dashed straight into the nearest wall striking with enough force that the entre wall shattered in an instant falling apart stone by stone into dust and collapsing downwards into the ravine deep below that this castle had been founded above.
Stones cracked and caved for several moments more as the last of the initial spells struck the demon who smiling in contentment suddenly went silent as the wizard simply then began to stalk. Like a big predator, the wizard kept his eyes on him never once blinking underneath those black glasses of his and instead circled him, where like such an animal he moved carefully with an animalistic grace bred with a predatory gaze as he watched and analysed. He was waiting for the barrier to dissipate the demon knew, waiting for when in that briefest of moments his defence would have that small crack ready to be exploited.
"My, if I had known that the Lord Commander was going to visit me, I would have prepared, though given what you've done to my house…" To emphasise his point Imshael made a long and exaggerated effort to stare at the area that he had been staying in, the castle had been ruined before he came here, the ancient grey walls cracked and broken in place, the roof od this magnificent long since having turned to ask and replaced with the soft white substance that was snow decorating the place in a wonderous look that also allowed the ruin to keep it's once ancient magical beauty from when it had been whole. Or it would have for now none of that was left, within the span of a few seconds, the entire structure had since been torn asunder, every high wall obliterated, every carved and intricate stone tile of the floor designed originally to broadcast some great image, rent asunder, and every last shard of glass over a thousand years old turned into sand that now blew in the wind. There was nothing here but death, not even the corpses of the Templars or even Red Lyrium survived.
"Are you not going to speak?" Imshael asked in the sweet and alluring tone that was his true nature, a tone that had lured many an individual into sweet promises of power, to have their ever desire sated, their every depravity explored in every single possible manner. Scores of mortals had given all that they were for just an inkling of the taste of that voice to feel it's soft war feeling sensation to blind them to all sense of the pain of the anger and allow them to relax.
The boy said nothing instead continuing to circle dangerously counting every millisecond till that barrier went down. Imshael knew it as well but simply stared. "It's rude not to reply" He stated, hoping to himself that the allure of the voice would sweeten the boy's mind to make him think, to consider his temptations. "You are so violent, surely there is another way, one that can be beneficial for both of us, simply say it and I will tell you the cost"
The boy again did not response drawing the demon's attention onto the small stick he carried, he could sense the magic that emanated from the wand, far more so then the wizard himself. As he allowed his long since fine attuned sensations to carry it out he could only feel his curiosity grow as he felt the tiniest slivers of emotion, not from the wizard who out of some technique or magic he did not know prevented even the absolute minimal amount of emotion becoming for all purposes dead to the world, a walking corpse almost with no noticeable will or thought. The stick, however, was more expressive, more subdued and not quite sentient, but it was not some mere trinket holding power like that mags staff, there was a story a tradition, of emotion, of stories. He could hear it sing, as the magic crossed into it as it was focused and used, he could feel it's desire, it's lone desire to do as was required of it by the one it had chosen.
There was a history to it, one that spoke of it's past before it had been placed, he could feel the familiar feeling yet also a foreign feeling of a dragon, and though he did not know the story, the wand seemed almost to remember how it had been plucked, about how it had once been part of a greater whole and how it had been taken from a corpse and refined. The same spoke of the wood, it had a history connected to a tree and had also been taken and harvested, two had been combined together, given life and then stored, waiting inevitably for the one it would choose. Imshael felt the raw emotion of the wand as it had felt joy, the joy or other emotions like so many others had when they had found their partner, the one who they would bond to. Curious Imshael decided to cast more magic to try and feel it better but as he summoned forth the twisting energies of the fade, changing to his will as he called forth that ever-changing realm into reality, the motions of the wand changed, it became almost angry at having been read and response by drawing upon its own source of magic. Suddenly a crystalline shield appeared for but a fraction of a moment meeting the energy Imshael sent blocking it and then turning its attention on him.
"How interesting" Imshael felt a desire for more, as he eyes the wizard, of this foreign sensation that neutral look that no doubt hid the cold that was now directed against him. "What have you come for, you kill the Templars and you bring that pathetic oath of a knight with you. Do you seriously believe he can achieve anything, would you like to know his failures his.."
Another loud blast rang out from within the courtyard once again striking the ground and eviscerating it as rocks were sent skyward as the shockwave rebounded. Ishmael felt smug at first the slow and desperate action of a slow mage until he felt another sensation on his body, not that of magic but of gravity. He was falling, his head turning downward he could not react fast enough as his body collapsed into the ground that had simply vanished.
The sudden shock surprised him the sensation of cold stone piercing his back the only thing that told him he had to move. And move he did with a last-second roll he was barely able to avoid as a magical light this time a different colour slashed into the area his neck had been leaving a deep ad burning gouge that marked the stone with a burning brand. Locking his gaze onto the wizard Imshael acted quickly. The moment he saw that shining spear made of silver speeding straight after him he called forth a plume of fire engulfing the silver turning it into a melting hot liquid on the floor. He did not have any time to rest as by kicking himself off the ground his palms outstretched did he summon another powerful gust of wind around him. Slamming into the shield that the wizard summoned moments before it would strike Imshael use that brief distraction as the wizard then turned his magic on the loose wind before then turning it on him speeding up its tempo and shortening the area that the wind was in to transform it into a series of razor-thin air daggers that stormed towards him. Imshael summoned forth a barrage of snow building it up in front of him before then freezing it in place hoping to take the brunt of the wind, but to his surprise, the wind was far sharp and simply sliced through it and continued towards him leaving the demon to narrowly dodge both it and a plume of fire that spurted from the other mages staff bending his body to almost unnatural proportions.
The onslaught did not stop there the mage determined in their fight followed; keeping at different angles as they slung spell after spell at him. Such was the speed of the attacks that Imshael was not able to even launch a counter-attack for the moment he would attempt to launch a rock at the Tevinter mage a series of magical spells blazing so fast that the mage who cast them seemed to be turning to a blur as light after light shook and shrieked in the night the spells slamming, slicing, crashing turning the entire battlefield into a mess that the demon was barely able to contend with.
Spell after spell striking by causing the demon to dodge more and more desperately his eyes going wide as he kept pressing on, step after step shortening not only the distance between them at a fast and stay walk as if this was a sword fight where each constant attack was a blitz forcing Imshael to conjure new ways to defeat them in barely made attempts to prolong his life. Every time he was able to conjure a rock from the earth t block it would shatter, every icicle and wall of ice turned melted and turned into water, every swirling raging piece of water evaporated transformed once again back into ice and flung back at him forcing Imshael to counteract.
He was pushing constantly and heavily, every action fast, controlled natural, it was unlike Imshael had ever seen or experienced, he had fought the greatest mages, their speed was nothing to sniff out and their power was legendary, but he had defeated them with trickery, but this was something else. There was no gap to exploit just a ceaseless barrage of spells, and those that were not stopped would hurt. Even now the demon could feel his energy starting to wain as in between every blast of magical energy there seemed to be a smaller spell hiding striking just after the obliterated rock to strike at his arms or legs and only a sudden curve of his body or using magic to lessen the power of the spell it struck was keeping him in the fight.
The demon's body was quickly becoming a myriad of bruises and cuts as he was forced back so quickly, back in the direction of the end of the castle, that the demon noticed something. While the wizard has still pressed forward his every action so elegant so practised as if this was as natural as breathing as if this was some elegant fast-paced deadly dance that his companion had since fallen behind. The other mage was not slow, his defences were strong and his power mighty, but he was unable to become so fast with his magical power to fling and summon forth the magic, shape it and control it in so many different forms and instantly before then chaining them together in a sequence that he could only follow desperately behind.
They were approaching the end of the castle and what few remaining columns that held up the fragmented stonework began to feel he pressure as shockwave after shockwave ran out, such was the thumping and explosions that those below in the camp of the Inquisition could only divert their attention up to the council as they looked in horror preparing and waiting for some sort of attack as if an angry dragon had been roused from its ancient slumber.
Imshael began to feel fear as he backed further and further backwards, he could feel in the magic itself that the once stronger attacks were giving way to less powerful ones, the bell ringing blasts were no longer present instead they were weaker, more controlled, subtle, a series of sharp deft cutting attacks striking the ground done set initially not where Imshael was, but instead where he would be. Sensing this and the wall that would soon be at his back Imshale began to panic.
He could not transform the flurry of constant blows would not allow it, was he perhaps facing a warrior then he could suffer it and repay the favour in kind, but what was what the wizard was doing, this continuous assault controlling his movements making him more sluggish in comparison whilst was trapping him in a corner waiting for that one time where it was too many, waiting for that brief moment. It was almost glorious were it not for the moment when he felt a different spell before he could sense what it was however the spell had landed not aimed at him but instead at the floor that they stood upon freezing it entirely solid.
With a flick of his wand as the ground turned to ice beneath him Nat used his rapid and fast blitz of weaker spells designed not to instantly kill but to hamper to keep distracted to buy him a precious few seconds, he could feel it now, he had pressed Imshael, forced him back in a corner with nowhere left to run. Even now the demonic energy swirled around him and it was in these moments that he knew he could either win this fight now and hope that he could bring it down in an instant or face longer and more arduous progress. To that end, as he kept up his blitz he began to change his attacks, where before every four attacks there was an attack in a different form, next it became every two as those other two spells he would have unleashed used for a different spell. First, his feet became solid to the ground his shoes not feeling any loss of friction even as the entire floor became like that of a skating rink, next was a small bubble of pure clean air that attached itself to his lips and nose allowing him to breath, then was the smoke and smog, he only had a brief few seconds every now and again to flick his wand and bring it in, slowly covering the area with thickets of unseeable fog filled with ice particles.
Blasting and blinding as the suns rays began to sparkle of the floor, Imshale was forced again, even more, to divert his gaze distracting him as the glare bounced off the floor and directly into his eyes blinding him temporarily. At that moment Nat struck, he summoned his power transforming it into a blast of lighting and struck at the monster.
However, Imshael had waited long enough, once again just as the spell landed it the bolt aiming to unleashed a powerful current through his body and disabled his mortal nervous system, the spell struck the once again clear barrier, sparking off dangerously and flung into the columns behind him blasting and burning as it brought the columns low.
With the barrier of magic once again shimmering around his form as the lightning strike fizzled out, the demon locked eyes on the wizard it's fear fading away entirely and replaced now with anger and rage. With a grasping hand, he shot it forth using his own power to grasp and control the remaining pillar telekinetically and flung it with as much force towards the wizard hurtling it with the same speed as a catapult. Nat was ready for this however and with a graceful move as the pillar raced towards him, he gave a simple flick and light blasted forth towards the pillar striking it and bursting it's form into a myriad of soapy bubbles before then with a twist of his wrist they transform turning into several hundred long sharp and thin ice needles sending them hurtling with the speed of arrows into the position of the demon.
Singing as they slashed through the air like a siren of wailing death, Imshael only laughed as his barrier held watching only as the pitiful excuse of several hundred ice shards punched through the ground impaling each of their thirty-centimetre lengths into the ground leaving a maze of sharp spike objects on the floor completely preventing the demon from taking another step.
"Enough" The demon roared this time conjuring and sending forth a glimmering sphere of raw ade energy swirling through the wizard at tremendous speed. Nat moved his body to the side dodging it followed by again and again as Imsheal kept up his own barrage, slow then the wizards but with his barrier he was now on the offence in an attempt to offset the wizard. Green bolts of magic struck with purple once again blasting apart the feeble attempt causing the magic to explode causing it to fill the area once again with an icy mist that covered the area so much that it rapidly became so thick that not even the demon was able to see through. Imshael swiped his hand and again dispersed the mist however this time when it was gone, the wizard had vanished in his entirety, nowhere to be seen.
Instantly the demon's eyes narrowed on the area as a strange and eery silence fell upon the area, his eyes scattered forth to the ground where the snow la as he reached his sense out searching for the wizard's sense only this time he could feel the wizard's energy all around him, nestling in the land air, the snow and fog it was everywhere like a fog of magic and presence that was everywhere at once, a trace in a sense.
"Very clever commander" Imshael growled hos voice full of venom as his eyes continued to scan for just where the wizard was. The area was visibly clear but he could not pinpoint him. "Using this merely as a distraction to hide yourself" It was not a tactic he was used to in terms of magical duelling. To actively leave a strong trace of your scent around oneself at all times, Imshael was like one of those mongrel hunting dogs humans like to use, he could tell the wizard was close lurking nearby hiding, but he could not tell where exactly having wafted his scent through the entire area. However as smart as he was Imshael noticed the small flickering of light in one of the corners, about halfway, trying to keep utterly still as possible. It would be almost impossible were it not for the small way the light glimmered off the floor. It left the tiniest of imperfections like how an image could change if you were to see it through the smoke caused by fire, how it danced and seemed off.
Imshael smiled and approached but not in a direct manner instead he made to move subtly, silently in a way that seemed more investigatory that would not lead the wizards' suspicions on, that would leave it to the last second. The wizard wanted a surprise attack he would give him that in fact… a dark grin came to the demons face as he felt his skin transform becoming almost like leather. His bones lengthened as his muscles bulged and his entire body changed shape as fade energy swirled around him. Where once he had a more lithe and handsome body fitting for that of a choice spirit leading other to make interesting deals, now hew was similar to that of a pride demon for that was what he felt. The little wizard had played his little game, in his mortal form he was weaker less resistant, but in this form… he grinned, he was not one of those petty baby demons who had only just come into form, becoming detached from its original form, twisted, tortured and corrupted before being shown the truth, before being allowed to choose for itself.
He stalked closer to his target allowing his emotions, the height of his kill about to take great pleasure, oh the rush of emotion he would feel when this wizard one who had killed so many Templar's, the pride of the Inquisition the most deadly foe of the Ancient one would be brought down. His snake-like tongue licked his lips as his size eyes flickered and blinked, in this form, there would be no surprises. He could almost taste it now, and that rich flavour full of magic, he wondered just how would this soul taste like to have it in his grasp to play with it, such a strange thing. It was a shame he could not claim it in other ways.
"You know this didn't have to end the way it did, we could have come to an arrangement, you would have liked that yes. I know that you come from a different land, I remember seeing it. All those pretty tall buildings, the glass the concrete, civilization, you could see it again, I will give you a way to go home. You could see your previous home again, your Britain, you cannot say you do not want to, I felt it the first time we encountered one another more than your misguided desire to save those ungrateful whelps, your desire for home, you're desire to defend it, to destroy those that would threaten it, your desire for love. For your sister. You could have it, you only have to agree"
The demon now in it's far larger and more muscle-bound form continued to pound his way towards where the wizard was located every foot seeming to slam into the shattered stone surface like the beating of a war drum. Soon enough he was right in front of that flickering even as Imshael made an effort to look away as though he had not quite noticed the wizard. Then without warning, he struck his razor-sharp claws towards the target intertwining them with his own demonic essence to deliver a powerful blow.
His claws ripped asunder the flickering image, the raw power of the fade easily overcoming any and all magic power that, was there. Imshael was ready to feel the flesh of the wizard on his fingers, to feel the blood coursing down them and the scent of victory to come. However as his weight behind the swing went to contact where he was sure the wizard was, he could only feel and watch as the strike struck through the illusion going through it quickly like a hand through a flame. The demon's eyes widened.
An Illusion. Reacting instantly as he sensed a sense of magical energy once again shoot off in his direction he braced himself for the inevitable blast feeling as just like before the jet of light harried off his shoulder and rebounded. Imshael glared through his monstrous appearance, however, the blast was not for him to be injured but instead to buy time for as Imshael then looked up he saw not one wizard, but forty.
Each was a perfect copy he could feel and even with his age, Imshael felt a slight amount of annoyance twitch as the wizards all began working. He attempted to search for the wizards magic, but again he was halted as the amount of raw ambient magic the wizard had delivered onto him as he had dealt blow after blow had saturated the area making again impossible for such a low magic spell. The wizard did not attack, instead, all of the forty clones began to walk into a circle, surrounding him at a fair distance apart were in a circle as they began to walk around the demon-like a carousel.
Imshael glared at the wizard his ire raised but at the same time he could not help but feel some small amount of amusement from the wizard, he was being cautious, careful. He had thought in his rage to get revenge that he was attacking like a beast, cornered and pinned, but no that was far from the truth, every movement had multiple actions, hiding a truer purpose. This assault was nothing more than a smokescreen, hiding the true motives.
Nat stared cautiously at the demon, he had to be careful in this fight, the demon was clever, powerful, a raw case of strength would not win him the battle not when the creature could create a barrier that turned the tides of battle in an instant. They both knew that such an act was pointless as when the barrier faded the assault would begin anew but Imshael could hold it off, it would become a war of attrition to see whose magical power could last longer. Nat knew he could go for multiple hours in such a battle, were he to be conservative with his magic, but he had thrown that out the window, time gave the advantage to Imshael, to call upon the Fade or to allow enemies to regroup and gather at his location. He needed to win, and while not quickly, he could not hold out indefinitely.
And so a silence had befallen the battlefield both opponents marking up the other, inspecting analysing planning, and configuring their battle plans on how to best contend with their opponent. For now, there was no easy victory, Imshael at this current moment could not be beaten due to his barrier, but that was fading the spell having to dissipate and the time taken before it could be retaken. The demon knew this as well and realising just what the wizard was up to he charged towards the nearest image of the wizard his claws slashing downwards and tearing the image asunder causing it to flicker momentarily before breaking. That was one but there was still plenty to go. Incensed Imsahel summoned forth more of his power, it was harder in this form, the pride demons were all about their raw brutish strength rather than the subtleties of the mind. No matter he quickly was able to rip asunder many of the illusions until only three of them remained.
He leapt forward his claws gouging out the three at once in a clean dangerous leap, just as his talons connected, however, his body still in the process of falling down to gravity and unable to be controlled there was another spark of magical power only this time it was strange emerging from his blind spot where he could not be seen.
Imshael screamed wildly as not able to act he felt as a total of three long and deadly sharp silver spears struck through his shoulder cleanly ripping apart the tendons before sticking in his body. He glared at the wizard but before he could yell a word of angry recompense the wizard landing gracefully on his feet gave a wave of his hand throwing the spears backwards with a pushing forward high into the sky. Soaring upwards as he rocketed higher and higher the spears holding his body steady the demon let pure rage overcome him.
That brat had somehow managed to deliver a shot to him had managed of all people to outsmart him. As his blood boiled and his anger boiled over the tipping point his form once again began to change, gone was the large bulky form of the pride demon and instead what took its place was something more similar to a firey demon. Rage was his every thought and pulling his arms behind his chest the demon called forth upon his rage channelling it into the form of this demon knew best creating jets of flame that threw his body forward and melted the spears of silver in raw magic dissolving into his form. As he rocketed straight towards the wizards however his blazing yellow eyes locked on he prepared to crash in a great maelstrom of fire behind him.
Imshael plummetted however Nat was always ready to act, with a sweep of his wand a burst of powerful air current the strength of a hurricane struck the demon mid-air throwing him far, of course, it was not done however for as soon as he waws knocked Nat twisted again and Imshael felt suddenly as the air it relief upon to cast its flame was stolen from it.
The demon felt it's mortal body began to choke and the fire it was in began to sputter ad die, as strength left him. The demon did not know what this sensation was, all around him not only could he feel his rage grow dim, but he was freezing over, him in the form of a rage demon. It was not over however for before he could carry on, lighting struck hard across his chest. Blasting and shredding through his demonic form the fire demon while not suffering the sensation of burning was more than familiar with lightning coursing through eery vein causing its body to spasm as bolt after bolt struck him.
However, it only fuelled his fire and enraged the demon again called upon the fade allowing nothing but his venom for this individual to pour forth. With a powerful shove of energy, the field that surrounded him shattered with a sound of like glass and in that instant his fire returned once again blowing like a volcano and he set off towards the wizard again.
Nat did not panic as his vacuum was shattered, even as Imshael had managed to break his hold he was more than prepared for it. This fight was the duel he was used to, fast-paced, deadly, heart pumping, his mind focused purely on combat and just as Imshael had done one part of the dance he committed to his casually spinning mid twirl as he avoided a fireball just before Imshael struck into the ground with a terrifying blast.
Such was the power of the blast of the demon that the entire stone floor once cratered and shattered by the power of the wizard became lit ablaze becoming sheer molten magma stemming from underneath the demon, ripping and tearing at the earth. Snow topped falling instead becoming steam as it stuck filling the air moments later with a blistering steam bath that without protection would boil the skin of any living thing nearby. The demon snarled however as he noticed the wizard had gotten away and felt the burst of magic once again he only snarled.
"Teleportation" He growled in frustration at the cheap tactic his rage blinding him to the far larger consequences of such a move. Flinging his wrist he raised up a large portion of the ground and like a tsunami crashing in as if it was the wrath of the god themselves it sped towards the wizard at a speed far faster then a human could hope to consider.
But the wizard was a wizard and while human in nature they were by definition not entirely. The enhanced magical reactions born not only out of magic but long years of duelling craft enabled the wizard to easily choose his target in the air and vanish above Imshael. Snow danced around him quickly disobeying the laws of physics at the wizard's command and following his every whim as he commanded them to combine and freeze in the shape of spears before then hurtling them straight at the demon.
Imshael blocked with a wall of fire, the ice spears melting and hissing like a million rattlesnakes as the wizard vanished out of sight again. Imshael glared awaiting the emergence of the wizard and he felt it far above his position he raised his hand up but just as he did he felt as the weather itself began to shift and change. What had been once a cold snowy morning born by the side of a cliff had crashed entirely. Rapidly the gentle if biting wind became more,. Gaining pace the wind swirled then howled, then screamed in torment like a million souls writhing in agony, so sharp was the wind picking up then the snow which combined in this rapidly growing maelstrom that it shredded faster and faster the air of the battlefield dropping so far beyond the freezing point that the demon was feeling even on his molten body ice starting to attach itself unwillingly as crystals formed. But that was not the end of it, the sky began to darken so much so that within a handful of second all light within the maelstrom they were in had vanished entirely blocked out by the swirling snowstorm.
The wind did not stop however instead picking up more and more speed howling so much that thunder and lightning began to crackle as friction struck and tore at him. Then it began to close in rapidly as the wizard continued to fall his wand twirling in a blurring manner as magic flowed through him like a dam that had burst its banks tapping him and scratching and tearing at him. Imshael tried to resist his own power again using to halt the flow of magic to fight it, but the wizard we veritably glowing with power, and with a thrust of his hand he threw the maelstrom at him.; collapsing it with such a power that it picked him up and threw it toward the top each and every second feeling as if he was being slashed by a thousand sheer biting knives.
He felt cold at first and then warm, all so warm as his demonic blood poured out of him covering his frozen form now encapsulated in ice with the red of life force. The ice slammed into the ground with a concussive force that equalled that to a battleship naval barrage collapsing the floor beneath him that a crater was formed, over thirty feet deep followed shortly by the low crying pain of a part of the mountain as it's strength fell to the wayside and simply collapsed underneath the pressure of the magical duel.
The ice shattered and the maelstrom departed, Imshael groaned as he felt his dirty body all cold no longer able to fear his anger or hate, instead as the wizard emerged his eyes blazing brightly like a deep violet sun as magic poured off him, Imshael felt fear.
"Heh, so this is your power" He managed to squeeze out his frozen lungs, the pain from speaking agonisingly sharp. A deep chuckle ran out from him. "It's not enough" A grin came from the demon and a harsh chuckle echoes from his lips as in a moment his cast aside the magic placed upon him and took his form this time into the familiar sensation.
Nat narrowed his eyes at the spider-like appearance of the form the demon had taken.
"Do you remember this one, did you hear how it screamed in its final moments, about how the one you left behind, about how those you sought to protect, suffered in its embrace. Yes, I can feel it, your fears, your past, your future, your" Another blast of energy tore at Imshael followed by a blast of lightning, only for it to collide with a recast barrier. "How rude, what would your mother say"
With a twirl of his hand Nat stepped back as the next bout of this duel began, not once did he showcase the exhaustion he was beginning to feel. This creature, this demon, that maelstrom was something else and yet to this demon, it seemed amused by the fact as if it was enjoying this fight to the death extensively. Nat simply stared not deigning to give in to the demon's desires, instead taking some small measure in comfort as he watched the demons crooked crablike head began to show irritation. The demon was annoyed, at his disrespect, good, very good.
In this form, he felt every single bit of emotion in regard to the boy. Imshael knew everything he feared, could most draw strength from it were he not a choice spirit originally but even then he knew. Of all the emotions the boy displayed, no wonder he acted, there was so much fear in him gnarling underneath every surface taking part in every decision. That fear of losing this battle, of the war, of Corypheus of his memories of killing…" Imshael froze solid his lips in this crooked form being to turn to disbelief as he saw it.
Not it was impossible
Such a thing, it could not be done, but it was true. The boy had felt fear, before he had faced the Tevinter God before he had faced the Titan. Imshael shook his own eyes going wide and hesitation showing, the boy was a boy for all his power there was no way, yet despite this even if he could not see the boys mind he saw the memories, of how the boy had fought the dragon the fear that had weighed on his heart like an icy lance except instead of it being something used to weigh him down the boy seemingly grasped it with cold malice and shoved it into his opponent.
He stared at the boy his magic flickering as the boy began to unleash a tirade of spells against his person. The air cracked and fizzed now with magical energy so much so that the very fabric of reality was starting to come undone for with a sweep of his hand, the gravity of this place seemed to come undone, and all of them felt as their bodies no longer touched the ground but instead floated. It was little matter for the demon however he naturally floated yet the boy seemed entirely unfazed either even as errant rocks that were stuck in this rough gravity lifted upward blocking the line of sight preventing the clear shot.
Then the boy vanished again and once again the world was coated over in a thick gaseous fog. Now nothing could be seen not even his own hand even as he waved it in front of him. So this was how the boy wanted to play was it, misdirecting the sense, and waiting for the perfect counter-attack. It was a pathetic plan Imshael thought, one that relied heavily on upon the wizards own fear of getting injured of a primal self instinct however he believed he was ever going to win the next war against those beings when he failed to kill even him ins a straight fight was a disappointment.
"You're' a failure boy, The Architect, the Titan, the Dragon, dso you think that because you were able to take out some ancient beings still half asleep makes you powerful, do you think you will be able to save the beloved little country that you pine so much for with such a sloppy sense. You are a weak pathetic creature too driven by fear" Imshael laughed cruelly as he felt the air try to constrict once again and choke away his air supply. With a mere wave, he stopped the choking.
"Everything you ever cared for, your family, your father, your families reputation, these people, the Inquisitor and most importantly… Do you know whats going to happen to your sister. For all your pathetic victories, when the Wolf howls" Again there was no reaction, Imshael glared at the smoke and tried to dispel it however unlike the last time there was more force to the spell, more permanency. As he attacked it, the mist fought back, quickly he felt it burn onto his skin like acid or poison consuming him. He tried to fly again using his power but just as he did something large and heavy struck full force into his chest wand smashed him to the floor pinning him.
He groaned in pain but none the less summoned forth a greater amount of power and obliterated the rock, not into ash, but simply vanished it away from exitance removing it as if that stone had never existed at all removing it seemingly from space and time itself.
"I grow tired of this game boy" Imsheal yelled his voice full of venom like a snake that was trying to latch onto any wound. "This fight will end in your defeat and when it has I will go to your world, and I will destroy everything you have ever cared before, you will never regain your family name, you will never be good enough, your sister will leave you and I will make you watch as I take and break her and then I will do the same to your people have them squeal on the ground below me"
Imsheal declared loudly so that every word could be heard by any that may be near, then with a grin on his face he expected a response from the wizard, an attack, to come out of his hiding, however much to his frustration, nothing happened. No reply, no spell, no sneak attack.
Instead from his hidden location, Nat could only roll his eyes at this demons goads, did it seriously believe that a mere few words and threats would be good enough to beat him, that he was so undisciplined, so foolish as to rush out of his position. It was comical, had the demon these powers then it would have done so and would not have resorted to idle threats. Instead, he simply stayed hidden carefully as always controlling the gas as it continued to increase, turning the air thicker and thicker with the substance all the while ensuring he kept the proper barriers around himself. This time he was careful, this time he had prepared and as much as he could feel the blood pumping through his veins, the lust for battle, to engage the demon to enjoy his time further he could not be careless.
This battle was nearing its close, he just had to wait.
"Your lowly Inquisition is nothing, a false ideology and attempts at peace" Imshael continued to goad but again nothing happened instead all he could do was continue to walk aimlessly in the fog, his senses ever looking for the wizard to strike to draw out. Frustrated he tried to rip at the fog again to bend it to his will and dissipate it, however it refused to do so instead magic fought against him, the boys magic. Imshael grinned at this the boy was no doubt on his last legs ready to falter. "You know we could have avoided all this, I could have given you what you wanted, a way home, all you would have had to do is agree to a little deal, but no you in your arrogance. " Again the demon tried with threats and did so again this time in its frustration offering power, a desire to end the hostility and it was not a mere tick but a general desire to end the fighting and to talk, yet the demon had no response even as it walked over the shattered black cracks of the stone, not noticing how every now and again a small piece of material shifted in his wake.
"Come on" Imshael ceased his eyes going wide as out of nowhere the wizard appeared before him in the fog, dressed all up ibn black however the demon could not help but feel that the boy looked somewhat like a spirit of his own staring down at hi. Imshael went to speak to open his lips, to end this accord having grown tired of this fight.
"Please I know that is an illusion, did you seriously believe that you could beat me with those dinky little blades that the Templars made, yes I know what's helped designed them, they are utterly useless against one such as myself. Now come let's talk"
Nat did not talk however instead time seemed to slow for the demon as the wizard raised his right hand and snapped his finger with a force that sounded like it was an artillery barrage. Imshael was on guard as he felt the detection of fire magic, instantly he moved to the right expecting to evade a ball of fire to his front but the fire did not come from the front it came from everywhere.
With a single snap of the fingers and a first-year spell, the smallest spark of flame burst forth from the fingers and turned the entire area to hell. All at once the gas that had once been unspellable creating a noxious fog load its shroud of secrecy removed as instead a mixture of chemicals flooded the demon's nose all at once, at the exact same time that it burst into flames.
With such force that it shook the entire countryside, sending the nearby mountains screaming in agony as a shockwave struck their tallest peaks and caused the snow to shatter as a mighty explosion blasted apart the area. The mountain cracked, what little that was left of the stone incinerated in an instant if it did not crack and blast. Even down below in the valley did unexpectant villagers and soldier turn their heads in horror at the sound seeing only bright red plums skyrocket several miles into the sky like a cloud in the shape of a mushroom expanded outward sending dust, ash and snow hurtling into the air at tremendous speed before then being flung down.
Imshel caught up in the blast could only thank his quick reaction as his barrier came through halting him in place, but just as he did he then felt another wave of magic emerge from right underneath his feet. Out of nowhere as the demon's eyes shot down a shining blue runic pattern made of pure lyrium in a manner he had never seen before glowed with the light of a thousand suns burning his eyes forcing him to close them in paralysis. When the light faded however he felt his barrier spell drain away all at once, his protection lost and then he saw he was trapped.
Within a cage, a pure glowing lyrium cage inscribed with runes in a language he did not know or comprehend as they glowed and kept him stuck there. He could not move he felt, not in the slightest,his body was locked permanently into position as if he was a statue but.
Panic gripped the demon as he tried to dispel the cage however every attempt of magic only seemed to draw the energy out of the demon and drawn into the cage itself strengthening it. At once the demon understood even as his powers continued to drain. He could not use magic for the lyrium drew it away from him.
No matter he thought he would use his claws and shred it apart but then as he tried to he felt his fear only deepen as his demonic form was gone instead replaced by his usual human flesh, weak and mewling useful only for passing along and convincing other mortals to do his work.
As the ruins of the mountain began to fall down upon them like a rain of jagged meteors Imshael could only stare as the wizard approached his eyes glowing with magical fury appearing even behind those black glasses like a swirling maelstrom of magical energy as he continued to power the cage with his own magic ensuring that absolutely nothing would happen. Before Imshael could speak however a sharp jagged pain erupted from his body as with four direct slices the weakened demon's limbs were ripped asunder from his body leaving him with no legs or arms instead only a torso and head that crashed into the floors his head now pressed fully into the ground. That was the last thing Imshael felt as something hard followed by a spell smashed into the back of his skull and the demon's vision turned black.
Hi hope everyone is doing well.
I want to deeply apologise for how long it has taken me to get this chapter out, when is aid that i would have less time on my hands, i really didn't have any concept. I thought i had a lot more then i did and as a result it has taken this long to get this chapter out which i am deeply sorry for.
I want to say that i should be able to start getting back on track but i cannot say for certain which again i am sorry for.
In the mean time given my work schedule. I want to say thank you to everyone who has read this i appreciate it, i also want to thank people who have reviewed and contacted me i do appreciate the advice so thank you.
In the mean time. Merry Christmas everyone or whatever holiday you happen to partake in, I hope you all remain safe and I hope you have a better next year given what this one has been like.
