Nike was not sure what it was she had expected when the doors were pulled open, but she was pretty sure that 'nothing' was not on her list.
It seemed every Templar capable of walking converged on the door, weapons drawn as a pair of their number drew back the massive bolts. Nike put an arrow to her bow, Alistair had his sword in hand as well. Even Morrigan seemed poised and ready to go on the attack.
There were no hordes of demons or abominations waiting for them. There were no frantic mages seeking escape.
There was just a stone hallway, soft carpet laid underfoot and merrily lit with torches. Nike could only stare at it a moment, before Greagoir cleared his throat.
"Go, or have you changed your minds? This door needs rebarring."
Almost defiantly, Nike stepped into the hall, and made sure not to look around again as she heard the big door close behind them, the bolts being reset.
"You used to live here, did you not?" Nike asked as they got halfway down the hall.
"Me?" Alistair asked. "No, not here."
"I thought you were a Templar?"
"I was…well, nearly. I was trained to be one, but not here. I left just as my training finished, before I could be full-sworn."
So, asking him to lead them along their way to find the First Enchanter is useless, Nike thought. No mind. It's a Tower. I can find my way through the thickest wood without getting lost, a Tower should be no difficulty.
"Morrigan, have you used a staff before?" she asked.
"From time to time," the apostate said. "I did not think it wise to bring one from the Wilds. Tis as good as a flag that someone is a mage."
"I don't think we have to worry about that," Nike said. "As I hoped, the Templars and the folks at Redcliffe seem to assume you're a Warden too, as we are. I am under the impression that having a staff helps a mage better focus, makes them more powerful. Is that correct?"
"Yes," she said thoughtfully. "I mean, that's a simplistic explanation but for our purposes, accurate."
"If we were able to find a staff in here, would you be able to use it?"
"I suspect so, yes," Morrigan told her. "However not every staff serves every mage or their purpose. They can become quite individualized. For lack of a better word, they can be a bit picky. However, it could help and I see no real downside, so long as we are in this Tower. If we come across a discarded staff I can try and see if it will suit me."
They were nearing a door at the end of the hall, and Nike unconsciously stretched the bow a little, her nostrils flaring. She could not smell nor hear anything out of the ordinary but a feeling was tingling over her skin. It was not the same as her warnings over the darkspawn- there seemed to be none of those in this Tower, thank the Maker-but it was unusual enough to give her pause.
Her companions seemed to feel it too. Alistair moved forward and gently put his hand on the door latch, before lifting an eyebrow at her. She eased down to one knee, drawing the fletch of her arrow to her knee, and gave him a nod.
In one motion he drew the latch and hauled the door open.
A ball of fire sailed through the open door, whipping so close past Nike's head she felt the heat flutter over the side of her head. The acrid smell of singed hair flared for a moment with a whisp of smoke.
Alistair was out of the path of the fireball, protected by the door itself, but Morrigan was directly in front of it. Without pause, her motion as fluid and practiced as any swordsman's parry, she 'caught' the fireball between her hands as she turned in a smooth circle. The fireball split in two as she pulled her hands apart, and when she came to a halt again once more facing the door, both her hands were on fire at her sides, a cold smile on her face, poised to attack.
"We're friends!" Alistair shouted. "We're friends, hold your…your fire!"
"Identify yourselves immediately," a woman's voice echoed from out of the room. Nike didn't dare look back into it, in case yet another fireball was on its way.
"I am Nike Cousland," she shouted back. "We are Grey Wardens!"
There was a momentary pause. Morrigan had made no move to press her attack but neither had she let the fire in her hands die.
"What was the name of the Warden commander at Ostagar?" the woman's voice called back.
"Duncan!" Alistair didn't hesitate to answer. "And I'm Alistair. Were you at Ostagar?"
"I was," she replied. "Very well, enter. But if you make any hostile moves-"
Alistair started to step around the door but Nike gave him a sharp headshake.
"My pardons," she called as he went still again. "But the concern does not only go one way here. We were told the Tower has been overrun by demons and abominations. If you make any hostile move we, as well, will be forced to take action."
There was a rustle. There was the subtlest shift of Morrigan's tension, so faint even Nike wasn't sure she'd seen it, then the voice returned, now just inside the door.
"As you can see, I am no abomination," the woman said.
"Oh, it's you!" Alistair said, as Nike straightened and eased her grip on the bow. "I remember you, from the road."
As Nike looked at the mage, she realized she recognized her too. It was the same older woman in the scarlet robes that had talked to them briefly on the road, after they had started to pile and burn the darkspawn bodies.
"I recognize you both as well," she said, looking from him to Nike, before her eyes settled more uncertainly on Morrigan. "You, however…"
"This is Morrigan," Nike said, as the apostate reluctantly relaxed her stance, the fire in her hands fading away and then vanishing. "She's with us."
"I apologize for my distrust," the mage said. "I have several small children in here, and I was fully expecting any entrance from this quarter meant that Greagoir had decided to invoke the Right. He hasn't, has he?"
"He's sent word to Denerim, for permission and reinforcements," Nike told her. "We're here to see if we can take the Tower back first, prevent that from happening."
"I appreciate that, but you will have to forgive me if I am not yet relieved. Come in. We should talk. Be warned, if you are not being honest with me and you attempt to harm anyone in here, I will strike you down. Wardens or no."
She stepped back from the door and headed further into the large anteroom. Cautiously, Nike followed her.
She wasn't kidding about the children, Nike thought. The room was pillared, with several heavy items of furniture here and there. As they stepped in, children began to pop out of hiding behind almost every one, until Nike lost count at fourteen. They seemed to range in age from about eight years, to a pair that had to be seventeen. Each of these two older teenagers held staves in defensive poses.
On the far end of the anteroom was another doorway, this one with no door. A blue shimmer of light was all that was blocking it from the rest of the Tower.
"My name is Wynne," the older woman said, gesturing at the older two kids that it was safe. "This is Petra, and Kinnon."
"What's happened here?" Nike said.
"I am not entirely sure," Wynne told her. "There was some kind of revolt, led I believe by a man named Uldred."
"He was at Ostagar too," Kinnon said. "When he came back, all he could talk about was taking over the Circle. He tried to recruit me and Petra a couple times."
"Recruit you?" Alistair asked, then looked at Wynne. "Did he-"
"He did not approach me," Wynne said. "Even Uldred knows better than that. The first I knew of this revolt was when an abomination attacked us as I was teaching a lesson. At first I locked them in the classroom with Petra to see if I could reach Irving, but it was clear even then that the situation was out of hand, and far too dangerous to continue. I retrieved the children to attempt to get them out, but by the time we were able to get this far the Templars had already sealed the doors."
"Is the First Enchanter still alive?" Alistair asked as Nike cautiously went over, more closely regarding the curtain of blue that covered the door.
"I cannot say for certain, but I believe that he is. If anyone is in all this mess, it would be he."
"Greagoir made it quite clear that he wouldn't be letting anyone out of the Tower unless the First Enchanter was the one asking and telling him the Tower was resecured," Nike said, her fingertips drifting close to the blue curtain.
"I wouldn't," the girl, Petra, warned. At the same moment Nike felt a snick of pain in her finger as a tiny bolt of electricity snaked out. Her fingers went a little numb, and she tucked them in her mouth a moment as she stepped away. She looked over at Wynne.
"Where would he be, if he were still alive?"
"Likely in his quarters," Wynne said. "He may be sealed inside with some of the others."
"I suppose it is too much to hope these quarters are on the ground floor?"
Wynne shook her head. "They are at the very top of the Tower."
"Of course they are," Morrigan said. A pair of the youngest kids there seemed oddly fascinated with her. They were edging closer to her, nudging each other with elbows as if daring each other to be the first to touch her. If she was aware they were there, she was doing an admirable job of ignoring them.
"This is the way forward?" Nike asked, gesturing at the doorway behind her. Feeling had come back to her fingers, and no permanent damage seemed to have been done.
"I put up that shield to keep the abominations out," Wynne said. "Truth be told I'm a little proud of myself for maintaining it for so long. However, if I bring it down I am not sure I can put it up again. The children would be exposed."
"It is our intention to kill any demon or abomination that steps in our way between here and the First Enchanter," Nike told her.
"Demons and abominations may not be the only threat to the children to be encountered," Wynne told her. "There may be mages that were swayed by Uldred but who have not become abominations. They would still be fully capable of harming anyone that stands between them and freedom."
"We're open to suggestions here," Nike told her. "When the reinforcements from Denerim arrive the Templars will invoke the Right to Annulment. The only way to stop that from happening is to retrieve your First Enchanter alive and to retake this Tower. Greagoir will not allow these children back out safely until he hears from the First Enchanter. We need to go through this door."
Petra said. "We can take it in turns to put a shield up, Kinnon and me. You need to rest anyway, Wynne, and if the Wardens clear the Tower out as they go…"
Wynne looked at the pair thoughtfully a moment, then the children, before looking at Nike. "I would like to accompany you. I know the Tower, and more importantly I know those within it. If any other mages besides those who joined with Uldred are in hiding they are more likely to attack strangers on sight out of fear than someone they know. I do not want another mage lost that doesn't need to be."
"Wynne, I wasn't suggesting that you should go," Petra said, looking slightly alarmed. "Just that you need to rest! You were hurt so badly before-"
"Hurt?" Nike asked. Wynne shook her head.
"I was injured during the initial attack, before we got the children down here. I have recovered sufficiently. I will still be able to hold my own against anything we might face, and I would feel better that nothing was coming down to hurt these children if I took part in clearing out the danger."
Nike looked at Alistair. "What do you think?"
"I think three of us against a whole Tower of Maker knows what- I know we don't have much choice, not unless we suddenly get comfortable with…uh…"
He looked at the children still gathered around them, and decided that talking about massacring mages or sacrificing a woman to use blood magic was probably not something he should be talking about around them.
"…well. Anyway, four would be at least put a bit more odds on our side."
She looked then to Morrigan, who had been distracted by the two children who had been sneaking up on her. One seemed to have dared the other one to pet the ermine skin that Morrigan had affixed to the bag on her hip. A little hand kept sneaking out toward it and Morrigan kept looking around, sending the two of them falling back into giggles.
Finally, Nike looked at Wynne. "All right," she said. "I won't turn down help when it's offered. Are you sure that you are up for it?"
"I know better than you what waits us in these halls," Wynne said. "And I am far stronger than I might look. I shall be able to keep up."
She looked over at Petra and Kinnon. "Do the shield just as I showed you, but take it in turns. Ten minutes each, no more before you swap over. I will see you both again soon, hopefully with Irving in tow."
"We'll be fine," Kinnon told her. "We-"
A squeal and a gale of laughter distracted him and they turned to see one of the children had managed to touch the ermine. Morrigan had whirled around, thumbs stuck in her ears and making a dreadful face at them, which of course only set them falling over each other in uncontrollable fits of laughter. Nike couldn't help but laugh as well.
"Run, run," Morrigan said in an over the top, ominously dramatic voice. "Or I shall turn you into woooooorms!"
They laughed even harder, tears squirting out of their eyes and the smaller devolving into hiccups. Morrigan was smirking as she turned to face them again. When she saw that everyone was staring at her, her smirk snapped off as if it had never been, as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
Wynne bid a final farewell to the children, some of which clearly did not want her to go. As she took the time to reassure them, Morrigan joined Nike and Alistair over by the door.
"So she is coming with us?" she asked.
"She is. We decided while you were playing with the children," Nike said.
"I was not playing, they clearly lack manners," Morrigan told her.
"As you say," Nike replied, not believing her.
Wynne took up a staff that leaned against one of the walls as she came over to join them. "Shall we?"
Lifting a hand, she closed her eyes a moment, and like a soap bubble that had been tapped with a finger, the barrier popped and vanished.