AUTHOR'S FOREWORD: A quick note at the beginning for you all; it has become apparent in reviews that the previous chapter of this story was not up to standard.
There was confusion over what part in the greater story it played as I had tried cutting down the usual foreshadowing, along with why the Hero of Ferelden would attack Sam and why Sam would try to kill the Hero knowing it could cause huge ramifications.
I have edited the chapter a little to clarify these points, hopefully for the better.
Chapter Ninety: Dungeon Crawl
We landed more roughly this time, the vortex spitting us out more than a few inches above the floor. Not being prepared for it, most of us just barely managed to stay on our feet. My heels and knees immediately ached from the impact. The swirling magic soon gave way however, and we got a good look at our surroundings.
We were in a flooded room, thankfully landing on a dry, raised piece of the floor. We were underground again, the smell and the water pretty much spelled that out. The stonework seemed similar enough to Redcliffe castle, construction methods in Ferelden hadn't really changed since the Avvars ruled most of the place, with the exception of Amaranthine and its Orlesian influence obviously.
That was all very well and good, but the thing that drew all our attentions was the massive red crystal with the radioactive glow. We were well aware what that was.
"Red lyrium," Aurelia said, giving voice to our thoughts with her lip curled back in disgust, "Not good."
"The hell is it doing here?" I asked, "I thought it only existed in Kirkwall?"
No one had any chance to answer, two Tevinter slave soldiers came screaming into the room through an open archway, between what looked disturbingly like prison bars. The helmets were particularly distinctive, a mix of a Roman gladitor helmet and one of those Turkish ones with a giant spike for headbutting people to death with. They sloshed along in the knee high water, moving as quickly as they could, swords raised over their heads.
Not fast enough.
Aurelia raised a hand, and in the blink of an eye, flash-froze the water. Our attackers were stuck fast, unable to move. They grunted and twisted, trying to free themselves, one of them even turning his sword around to try and crack the ice around his legs. To no avail. I raised my weapon to fire, but hesitated, knowing that the sound of a firelance would echo through the tunnels beyond. Where there were two soldiers, there were likely more.
Her fists raised up, Aurelia summoned yet more ice from the Fade all around the pair. It seemed to cling to them as it hit them, until they were completely covered in inches-thick compacted snow. And just like her move to block the Hero of Ferelden, the snow soon turned to clear ice. The soldiers died suffocating in their own personal icy coffins, upright.
It was the turn of my lip to curl in disgust. What a nasty way to go. But it did have the advantage of being quiet. "Think maybe we should've kept one alive," I commented, "I don't know about you, but this basement isn't familiar."
"Dungeon," Dorian corrected, "It's familiar to me, there's an exit tunnel near here that Felix was using. We're still in Redcliffe Castle. Don't think we're very far off our target time either, though it's hard to tell down here. There's a magical confluence interfering." Gibberish as far as I was concerned, but then most magical ideas were to me.
"I really wish you hadn't said dungeon," I said, wincing, "Either way, these two might have had useful information." I thumbed at the dead men.
"They are Venatori," Aurelia replied, "They would not have talked. Not without blood magic, and we know how people are about that." She stepped out onto the sheet of ice she had created, towards the red lyrium. I frowned, hoping she knew what she was doing.
"Speaking of people we probably shouldn't have killed," Dorian cut in, "What were you thinking back there, just opening fire like that? You could've changed history for the worse, killing the Hero of Ferelden."
Irritation boiled up in me. I was well aware of the problem. "I was thinking that our capture would've been worse for ourselves and history," I replied, rather too defensively, "Do you have any idea what the realms have tried in order to gain access to our abilities? To say nothing of criminals and terrorists. You should, given that you probably heard that the Tiberii freed all their slaves and sent an expedition across the continent to help me."
"And we were the nice ones," Aurelia chimed in, "It's a good thing no other house of Tevinter knew or believed the Outlander story."
"It was foolish," Dorian insisted, "The Blight might have lasted decades, even centuries if the Hero had died by your hand."
"You're probably right," I admitted, "But that is a what if, compared with what certainly would have happened to us if captured. Forces beyond our control turning us into breeding pieces for magically immune slaves? Imprisonment and study to discover the secret of our ability? Murdered as demons or apostates? Mind-wiped or tortured for information by the Qunari?"
All of which had been distinct threats to us over the years I had been on Thedas.
"Without the Trojan state to protect us, we are naked," Julie said in support of me, "There's no guarantee that anything we do will affect our world, but what we ourselves experience is very real."
"Alexius changed the future by going into the past," Dorian pointed out, "There's no reason to think that we wouldn't affect things by doing the same thing."
Julie and I glared at the man, and he glared right back. Mostly because we knew he was dead fucking right. It was extremely frustrating, but we had been focused on our own protection for so long. I had made the order to open fire on instinct, instinct that had been crafted by the multitude of threats facing my new family.
It had been impulsive and stupid.
"Enough," Tam commanded, "The Hero was competent enough to save his own life and we had already killed someone who was not supposed to die by our hand. What happened is therefore irrelevant, for now. Can we reactivate the spell and go home?" She had donned her persona as the Empress of the Trojans now, and the Empress' tone brooked no disobedience.
She was also right. Amell was certainly difficult to kill, perhaps it was naïve of me to believe I could've done it so easily.
"We could try the spell, but it's best if we return closer to the physical location we want to go to," Aurelia said, "I think we're being drawn to confluences that are nearby our destination, relatively speaking, in time and space."
"Then we get out of these dungeons," Tam stated, like it was going to be a walk in the park, "Now." With that, she raised her shotgun and began crossing the ice, passing the two Venatori ice statues and the red lyrium with care, her footfalls causing crunching sounds in the layer of snow on top.
Not about to argue and with no better ideas, we followed.
We moved carefully through the dungeons, on account of its many nooks and crannies. Unlike the room the spell took us to, it was thankfully only damp. It was warmer, and we rolled up the winter clothes we had been wearing and tied them up to hang off the back of our belts. The place was also pitch black, save for the menacing glow of red lyrium here and there.
Without our goggles, we would've been forced to get dangerously close to the stuff, but as it was, the crystals provided great illumination, both in visible light and in the infrared spectrum, which let us see without the use of flashlights or magelights, and greatly increased the effectiveness of our night vision technology.
The entire underground was an impressively sized prison; cells and storage rooms abounded. We couldn't afford to leave any unchecked, in case more Venatori were there guarding. We found none, for the moment. What we did find was a little more surprising.
We went up a floor via some stairs, and the first cell I moved to clear had an occupant.
The man was sitting turned away from me, staring at the wall and muttering to himself, which is how he didn't hear us approach. He was dressed in a padded jerkin in grey, secured by a leather belt over a black shirt, with black pants and black boots. His neck-length hair was, you guessed it, black.
The others caught up to me, looking in at the man as he swayed slightly. Julie gave me a shrug, and gestured to do something to get his attention. Not particularly afraid the man would give us away, given his status as a prisoner, I gave a short whistle.
He turned, revealing a clean-shaven face, and thick black eyebrows knitted together in confusion over glowing red eyes. I put him in his 40s or 50s by his face. The man stood up to his full height, and even through the thick jerkin I could tell he was formidable. The combination of his eyes and his physique was threatening enough, and I raised my firelance, despite him being trapped behind the metal bars of the cell.
"Who are you, more Venatori?" he asked in a gruff, Free Marcher accent. Markham or Ostwicker, if I had to guess. The former, I would later learn.
"Don't you think we're in the position to be asking the questions?" I asked, "So, you first."
The man seemed suddenly unable to meet my gaze. He was deciding whether or not to tell me the truth, but at the time, I just thought he was contemplating keeping his mouth shut.
"Thom Rainier," he declared finally, like it was the first time he had said his own name. That was strange, but strange was a daily occurrence to me by now.
"Well then Thom, I'm Sam," I said, "I am not Venatori. And these are my companions." The others gave little waves, with varying degrees of sarcasm.
Rainier scanned the group for a moment, before his jaw dropped open in shock. He ran up to the bars, clinging to them and poking his head halfway out to get a better look. "Andraste have mercy! Dorian!" he said, "But how! Y-you shouldn't be here! I saw Alexius destroy you with a spell!"
The Altus looked very confused. "I'm sorry, have we met?" he said, before something clicked, "Ah, of course! We haven't met yet. Sorry, we've been doing a spot of touristic time travel I'm afraid. May I ask what year is it?"
"We have?... It's 9:42 Dragon," Thom said, "What are you saying?"
Dorian nodded in response. "Alexius sent us though time," he said, omitting the real details, "I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, but circumstances being what they are..." He twirled his hand around in the air, indicating that we were in fact in a nasty, red lyrium infected dungeon. Armen smirked from behind him, which I couldn't help either.
"Is the Herald here too?" Thom asked, straining to see further down the corridor. Evelyn Trevelyan did not materialise at will.
"No," Dorian answered, "She was at Haven, last we heard, with the Templars?"
The prisoner looked down at the floor. "That doesn't make sense," Thom said, shaking his head, "The Inquisition was supposed to ally with the rebel mages..."
Now he was talking crazy.
Aurelia cleared her throat. "Why does he think the Herald would be with you, Pavus?" she asked, before answering herself, "And he's talking about events that didn't happen. It isn't just that he's crazy. Something has gone wrong with the spell."
There was a pause, before Dorian made a noise of agreement. "Yes, I must agree," he intoned gravely, "We may have caused time to overlap in places with all our jumping about around the timeline of the Breach. Future or false memories being transplanted in people who haven't experienced them could very well be a consequence, the Fade is the realm of consciousness after all."
It was over my head, but sounded plausible enough. Aurelia did not agree or disagree, reserving her opinion for when we had more to go on.
"I want to know why his eyes are glowing red," Tam stated, "Is he a threat?"
"It's the red lyrium," Thom explained, "It whispers, sings quietly to you. Drives you slowly mad. Faster if they feed you it, though they haven't done that to me. I've just been near that for too long." He pointed at the nearest crystal cluster, about ten paces down the corridor on the opposite side as his cell door.
This was a story I had heard before, regarding Kirkwall and Knight-Commander Meredith Stannard. The people who had told me had no reason to lie, but I had not heard any singing or whispering. I strained my ears and listened, thinking that maybe we hadn't been close enough before. I heard nothing.
"Anyone else hearing singing?" I asked, "Not hearing a note myself."
Julie, Tam, Mariette and Aurelia shook their heads. Armen, Ciara, Leha and Dorian made faces.
"Been hearing it since we got here," Armen admitted, "Didn't think it was dangerous." Nods from those affected followed.
"Well, now we know better," Julie said with a frown, before switching to Orlesian, "What do we do about this man?"
"He's an enemy of the Venatori," I replied, "We let him out."
"Is that wise?" Tam said.
"Probably not," I shrugged, "We can't take him with us to our... final destination, but why not cause trouble for the enemy while we're here?"
"He's unarmed," Armen pointed out.
Thom drew our attention, pointing to a door past the red lyrium. "My weapons and armour are in that storage room," he informed us, also in Orlesian.
We stared at him for a moment. Switching to another language hadn't been as effective as we had thought, obviously.
"Rainier huh?" I said at last, in Common again, "Should've guessed a guy with a name like that would be able to speak franglais." No one but Julie knew what the hell that meant, but they glossed over it.
"All I know is that you definitely aren't dead," Thom said, "I didn't think I'd see a living person ever again... if you're going to fight Alexius, I can help."
"Alexius is here?" Dorian asked, "Right now?"
"He hasn't left since... well, you'll find out," Thom said.
My companions and I exchanged greedy, vengeful looks of glee. We had the bastard in our grasp.
It was a simple matter to get Thom Rainer out of the cell, it used the same hinges as the prison Julie, Tam and I had broken out of at Halamshiral. The door came clean off of them with a little elbow grease. He got equipped quickly with our help, into mixed plate and chainmail made of Grey Warden silverite no less, with an impressive longsword and metal-coated shield.
With that over with, we advanced once more. We had even more reason to be careful now, as preserving the element of surprise to get the drop on ol' Alexius was vital to our not-being-sent-through-time again. Tam was sure to keep the man in front of her though, so she could pump shotgun shells into the back of his skull if needed.
Despite the glowing red eyes, Thom didn't seem particularly nuts except regarding the red lyrium crystals with far more fear than was rational... at least, rational from my perspective.
We passed more occupied cells. Thom recognised a few, but many had gone completely crazy, as red lyrium had grown inside the bars. A number of people had been consumed by the stuff entirely, including people some of us recognised.
The first was Fiona, who had been consumed entirely while leaning against the wall, a hand over her face. Alexius and the Venatori had used her up, then thrown her into the dungeons. Aurelia was sure it was part of some experiment, given the sheer amount of the red glowing crap that was in the cell.
Another victim was a young she-elf in colourful clothing whose body lay on the ground while crystals perforated her head and body. That sight sent Thom to his knees crying for a moment, because it was in fact Sera. We did not know her yet ourselves, though I think some of us would have had the same reaction if we had. We gave him a minute before moving on... though I think we all needed it.
The danger of the red lyrium was very much front and centre in our minds now, and we began looking at each piece in our way with the same suspicion as Thom.
It wasn't long before we ran into familiar faces, albeit locked up. We went up yet another floor and found yet another array of cells. The occupants weren't jabbering to themselves loudly, at least.
I noted that at the end of the corridor was a different type of stairway to the almost identical ones we had been climbing to get out so far. The cells were also far more numerous, and all of them seemed to be occupied. That told me we were getting closer to the castle now.
"Julie, Aurelia, Armen, Ciara, Leha, Mariette," I said, "Go directly up the stairwell and secure the top of it. This might take a while. We'll check these last cells, see if we can't gather some intel." Strange shit seemed to be happening, it was logical to ask the locals.
The team ran off past the cells, drawing the attention of the occupants as their weapons and equipment made enough sound to be heard over the macabre soundtrack of a populated dungeon. I figured that Tam, Dorian and Thom was enough to either scare, charm or convince anyone sane we might find in the area.
The first half of the floor was not particularly encouraging though. It included a guy slamming his head off the bars, bleeding glowing blood, and an old lady in rags rocking back and forth in a fetal position. A sort of cold terror gripped you on seeing them, like they'd force you to do the same if you looked too long. I considered putting them out of their misery, but that was neither my place nor wise given the noise it would make.
Things looked up when I saw someone I recognised past the half way mark.
"Well well," I drawled happily in Common, as I met her eyes, "If it isn't the Madame de Fer."
Vivienne of Montsimmard glared at me with glowing red irises, her Maleficent hat missing and revealing short curly hair. Her elegant white mage robes scuffed up with dirt, and it was easy to see why; her cell was easily the dirtiest. Likely a torture designed specifically for her.
Seeing her in such a state was pure joy for me. Aside from her being an enemy combatant, the intelligence we had about her advice to Empress Celene about the Free Orlesians and the Mage Rebellion put her firmly on my shitlist. No negotiation without acknowledging the Empire, no mercy for those that didn't, that sort of thing. Celene was too smart to go along with it, thankfully, or else we would've had to repel an attack on Jader some time in the spring of '40.
"What fresh idiocy is this?" she asked, "Am I supposed to think this is a rescue? Because you've let Blackwall out of his cage? If that even is Blackwall and not some demon wearing his face, to say nothing of Dorian. The man is long dead." By Blackwall she was referring to Rainier, who went very stoically quiet all of a sudden. Probably because he didn't want Vivienne or the others knowing his real name.
She crossed her arms. "Try again, imbecile."
Fucking charmer, this one. Granted, she wasn't in the best situation of her life. "Don't worry," I said to her, leaning on the wall by the cell door, "I think you're exactly where you belong." I tapped the lock of her cell door with the muzzle of my firelance. She watched, unable to identify what it was.
"Agreed," Tam added, "With what you have done in Orlais, I should come in there and smash your..."
"I'm sorry, am I supposed to know who you are, darling?" Vivienne interrupted, with a casual point of her finger, "I have many enemies, but you must be one of the minor ones, because I can't remember you. You are going to have to remind me."
Tam and I exchanged glances. Something really had gone wrong with the time spell or the lyrium for the Madame de Fer to have forgotten us. Time to test if she had any recollection of our interaction before.
"I'm the guy that captured you outside the walls of Halamshiral?" I said, "Remember? You tried using your spirit blade on me but it just shattered?" Well, more accurately, she tried it on Bellona and I.
Vivienne looked at me with wide eyes like I was totally insane, though from that sprung forth extreme amusement. She laughed loudly, loudly enough that I wanted to clamp a hand over her mouth lest she draw hostiles to us. The metal bars prevented me getting close enough. "What fantasy," she smiled, "I was not captured at Halamshiral. You Venatori really need to keep away from the red lyrium, it seems to rot your brains faster than it does ours."
She snorted again, quite unladylike. "Shattered my spirit blade, ha!" she mused to herself, "And I'll be elected Divine this year, darling." Even today, I really wish she hadn't spouted that last sentence. Prophesy like that is uncomfortable, especially when it benefits my enemies.
So, she had no memory at all of us. That was plainly disturbing. It reminded me of dementia, especially their insistence on the facts being different. It seemed like the lies the elderly sometimes tell to fill in gaps in their memory. "We're not Venatori," I sighed, "But I guess it doesn't really matter. You're losing your mind on the red lyrium and don't even know it."
"Who are you then, if not Venatori?" came a voice from behind. We turned to the cell opposite, and I found another familiar face.
Varric Tethras had come out of the shadows and was now looking out at us. He was far better for wear than his new abode would've suggested, being far cleaner than Vivienne.
"You don't recognise me either?" I asked, "Or these two?" I thumbed at Dorian and Rainier.
"Oh I know those two alright," Tethras said, deftly dodging my first question, "Though I know Blackwall better than Dorian." Or so he thought.
"Do you believe we are demons too?" Dorian asked, "Not that it isn't the aspiration of Desire demons everywhere to imitate this stunning form of mine." He made a frame gesture with his fingers and held it in front of his face, eyeing Tethras through the middle of it.
The dwarf chuckled while I punched Pavus on the shoulder lightly for his faux-arrogance, all in good fun. I was really beginning to like the Altus. "Okay, that's definitely Dorian Pavus," Tethras smiled, "What about you, Warden Blackwall?"
"He is not a Grey Warden," Tam cut in. Both Tethras and Rainier looked at her, then the dwarf stared at the 'warden'.
"How do you know?" Rainier asked, "No one has ever been able to tell."
Tam looked down at him, with something approaching hostility now. "I am Warden-Commander of Valhalla," she said, "We are close enough that I would be able to sense if you were one of the Order."
"More insanity," Vivienne declared from her cell, "Do not fall for it, Varric. There are no Wardens in Val Halla any longer. There isn't even a village for the darkspawn to prey upon." Count on a woman of the world like her to know something like that... her words were true before Troy was established, certainly.
Tethras bit his lip and shook his head. "I don't think they're lying, Iron-Lady," he said, "Or, they believe what they're saying, at least." Vivienne scoffed in reply.
"Who's there Varric?" a deep, familiar voice shouted from down the corridor, "I was asleep."
"It seems we have visitors from elsewhere," said a melodious, almost Dalish like voice in response.
"It's Pavus, the Tevinter guy," Tethras shouted back, "Seems he isn't dead, brought some help and broke out Hero. They brought a whole bunch of people... they're a bit strange." Hero meaning Rainier. Irony never ceases.
"Says the man with glowing red eyes," I remarked, replying to the strangeness remark. Yeah, the dwarf had them too. Everyone in the cells did. "Also, can you keep it down? We're trying to get to Alexius without him knowing."
"Sign me up," Varric asked, "Can you get us out of here?"
I scowled. I had pretty much no problem with breaking the dwarf out. The Madame de Fer was another matter entirely. "Depends on who 'us' is," I replied, "Madame de Fer is gonna rot there, as far as I'm concerned."
Tethras' face turned red with anger. "It's the end of the world and you're holding a grudge against her?" he said, "For something she can't even remember? If you know me at all, you know I can't let you do that. She rots, I rot, you don't get either of our help taking Alexius down. It's as simple as that." He crossed his arms, awaiting a response to that challenge.
I pondered it. Ididn't know him very well at all... but he did seem the pragmatic type. Survived some serious shit with Marian Hawke too. The end of the world comment was too interesting not to risk it, I decided.
"It's not the end of the world until I'm dead," I quipped back, "But you do have a point. Let me see who else is kicking around in these cells and I'll consider it." Tethras' face returned to its natural shade, as he nodded, likely relieved I wasn't totally unreasonable.
Tam, Dorian and I moved along, while Rainier stayed behind talking quietly with Tethras, likely talking about us and what he knew. Might as well let him, I thought, the dwarf was probably going to be out of his cage and fighting alongside us soon.
There was a rather large obstacle to that happening in the next two cells though. Peeking out from behind the bars, there were two men. One near-bald elf with piercing eyes standing up, one Qunari with a silvered eyepatch, no shirt and massive handlebar bull-like horns, sitting down against the wall facing the direction we were coming from.
The former was no one to me, but the latter was familiar.
"The Iron Bull," I said, turning to Tam, "Jesus, is this some sort of dream? Are we going to find Ianto and Vael down here too?"
"If only," Tam smiled, with more canine than was appropriate.
"So you know who I am," the Iron Bull said, before breaking into rumbling Qunlat at Tam. He used a sort of phrase that doesn't really make sense in Common, as a test of whether or not she was of the Qun. The sort the Ben Hassrath use.
Tam, naturally, answered perfectly in her high Qunandar accent. The Iron Bull jumped to his feet and gripped the metal bars in front of him. He gave his nickname, Hissrad. Which appropriately enough means liar, though it also means something like 'weaver of illusions'. So, a high ranked spy. Not an uncommon soubriquet among them either.
With some hesitation, Tam gave her real title, tamassran.
"I haven't heard that accent in years!" the Iron Bull said, in Common, "What are you doing here? Have things become so bad that even tamassrans must fight?" He shut up for a moment, returning to reality and out of his excitement. "What am I saying, of course they have gotten that bad," he sighed.
"At the moment, we're looking for Alexius," Tam said back, answering his first question, "I presume you don't recognise me?"
The Ben-Hassrath spy smiled brightly. Funny how quickly this one can be cheered up. "You are very memorable, tama," he rumbled, "I'm sure if we had met, I would remember."
"Easy tiger," I replied, just about catching myself from telling him that she was the mother of my child. Better to omit that fact. It would complicate matters.
"Did you ever take a contract in Orlais to deal with sylvans?" Tam asked, "You would've received help from a noble called Milo Duval?" I realised what she was doing at once. She was asking if he remembered our help against the tree demons, when we were first on the road to Hearth from Halamshiral.
The Iron Bull was too smart to answer right away. "Is this an interrogation?" he asked.
"Just seeing if your memory aligns with ours," Tam replied honestly, "It seems people here do not remember us. Knowing why might be important."
The huge shoulders of Bull shrugged, finding no fault in her logic. "Yeah, we did that contract," he said, "Demons chased us a ways, but the noble had set up his troops well. They caught the sylvans from two sides, which let us rally and come back with a whole lot of fire. Don't remember you being there though."
And he definitely would have... because afterwards, we got into a confrontation where he demanded we come with him. An offer we declined, at gunpoint.
"Well, that's just strange," I said, "But I guess we can't leave him."
"He'll be too useful," Tam agreed, "There are likely many Venatori up there."
"There are," said the melodious elf from behind us, "And worse."
I walked over to his cell, curious. "Can't say I know who you are," I said, "Got any particular combat experience?"
Amusement washed over his face, a broad smile indicating a barely suppressed laugh. "You could say that," he breathed, before controlling himself, "My name is Solas. If you want Alexius, another mage will certainly be of assistance against the demons on the surface. Particularly if you mean to return through time and undo all of this." He was making his case, anticipating our own plan. I was pretty well convinced.
"Sold!" I declared, "Welcome to the party."
Solas inclined his head in thanks. I gave him a thumbs up in reply, a sign he didn't appear to recognise.
If I knew what I know now about who and what Solas was, I likely would have shot him on the spot. Not that it would've done much good, given that this particular individual was not the same one who would do everything the 'Dread Wolf' had in mind.
"Who else do we have down here?" I asked, going to the last two cells. The one beside Solas' was empty, though it had signs of recent habitation. A full chamberpot, for example. I went to the one directly opposite, the last.
Yet another person I knew was inside it.
She was on her knees, her eyes closed, her black hair now peppered with grey but as neat as ever. Her physique had not changed either, she had paid attention to her health in her imprisonment. She was in a jerkin too, a dark blue one, though it was hard to tell just from the red lyrium glow. Her facial scars glowed slightly with the red lyrium taint too. She was meditating or praying, her Seeker training no doubt at play there.
"Cassandra Pentaghast," I called to her, "Right Hand of the Divine."
"Really?" Dorian spoke up, looking into the cell, "I'm surprised you were taken alive."
That hit a nerve. Her eyes opened, and looked at the three of us. She did not say anything. Dorian slunk back again.
"I'm not going to ask if you know who we are," I said, "Don't think any of you remember us. How would you like a chance to kill Alexius?"
The Seeker looked anguished. "What good would that do?" Pentaghast asked, "The world is lost. I shall be with the Maker soon."
"The Maker may look on you better, if you arrive on top of a pile of demon corpses," I said, not joking in the slightest, "Fighting for your faith." I knew what buttons to push with this one.
Her brow raised, Pentaghast stood up and walked to the bars. "An appealing prospect," she admitted.
"We can do better than a glorious death," Dorian scoffed, "Help us get to Alexius and maybe we can undo all this. Stop it from ever happening."
Pentaghast's eyes lit up in a way I doubted they had in years. "And the Herald?" she asked, "Is she here too? Pavus, if you survived, maybe she..."
The Altus shook his head, silencing her. "If she did, I haven't seen her," he lied smoothly, "Could be anywhere in the castle... or anywhere in the future, unfortunately." Clearly he already had a very good idea about what was going on now, with everyone not remembering who we were. I still kick myself for not realising as soon.
Pentaghast's jaw clenched, and her head turned away briefly, before she looked me dead in the eye. "Very well," she said, "Get me out of here. Our equipment is upstairs. Alexius is a dead man."
"That's the spirit," I said, waving Tam over to help me pull the door off its hinges.
So, that's how we broke out most of the Herald's personal combat bodyguard from Red Lyrium Prison.
We went to rejoin the rest of my own companions, moving as quietly as possible, though there were now enough of us that doing so was a bit of an issue. Not everyone was wearing Earthling boots, after all. Hobnail-on-stone isn't quiet even when you're trying. However, when we reached the top of the staircase, it became obvious that we need not have bothered.
We were in the real basement of the castle now, the one used for actual storage of useful items rather than people who annoyed the nobles. And for torture, if the shouts of men and moans of pain from their victim coming from a door about halfway down the central corridor was any evidence. There was some small light from below the wood, the only real one in the space.
"You freed them all?" Mariette asked, her voice barely audible.
"Only about half," I replied, "Apparently there's a ton of demons and Venatori at ground level. We'll need the numbers."
Mariette grimaced and grit her teeth, not liking the sound of that. I pat her on the helmet jokingly, feeling exactly as she did. About the Venatori at least. Our ammo wasn't unlimited.
I waved to Pentaghast behind me to get her to follow me, before I crept over to Ciara, who was kneeling on one knee, her weapon pointed at the door. "How many?" I asked her.
"About five," she said, "But I'm only judging by the sound of their voices. Haven't seen any come in or out. The door is locked."
"Explains the empty cell downstairs," I frowned, before turning to Pentaghast, "That the room where your equipment is?"
"It is," Pentaghast replied.
"Makes you wonder why Rainier and his stuff was kept lower down," I thought aloud. It did seem strange.
"Rainier?" Pentaghast asked.
"You call him Blackwall, I think," I replied.
She seemed to contemplate something for a moment. "I overheard two Venatori talking about Alexius wanting any Grey Wardens as far away from him as possible," the Seeker said, "Why that is the case, they did not say."
Probably because Corypheus had a taste for mind-controlling and body-snatching them, and the good Magister knew his ass was grass. But that's all only something we discovered later. I ignored the comment, despite wanting to point out that Rainier was no Grey Warden. There was wetwork afoot. I activated my radio.
"Julie ditch the heavy firelance for Mariette's one," I said quietly, "And join me at Ciara's position with Tam. Everyone else, get friendly with the locals and prepare. We're going loud." Locals meaning the people we had broken out.
I listened for a while to the shouts and moans over the sound of weapons being changed and readied. Ciara's assessment of how many voices she was hearing was dead right. There were five different guys speaking. Of course, in these situations, there's always at least one quiet guy and a leader observing. After a minute, Julie and Tam joined us, to Pentaghast's great surprise; there had been no way either could've heard what I had said without the radio.
I wasn't in the mood to explain. I had gathered the most experienced shooters in my group together for a reason.
"Breach and clear on that room, five to seven hostiles... maybe," I said, pointing at the door, "Like we've practised." Without waiting for any acknowledgement, as I didn't need any, I stood up and walked down the corridor.
I flicked the safety of my firelance off, raised it and came to a halt by the door on the left.
The shouts were more coherent now.
"How did Trevelyan know about the sacrifice at the Temple!" said one, "Answer!"
"Never!" shouted another, a female voice this time. It seemed one of those inside was not hostile after all...
Behind me, Ciara and Julie lined up closely, almost face to back, as if in a queue to get into a club. Tam passed us and positioned on the right side of the door, where the handle and lock was. This was bread and butter stuff for me, and was close enough for all of them by this point. I had made sure to train my companions in how to fight our way out and into buildings, and it continued to pay off dividends for decades afterwards.
Tam indicated she was ready.
I made a ring with my thumb and forefinger, and placed it over my eye as a signal, before snapping on my NV goggles. Tam did the same in front, and I heard the others do the same. I hadn't seen any sign of red lyrium on this level, which probably meant the guys inside were only using candles or lanterns... neither of which would remain alight by the time we stepped inside.
I grabbed a flashbang grenade from my webbing, dutifully looted from the armoury of Boston SWAT, and pretended to knock on my helmet. That was the go signal.
Tam moved and aimed her shotgun around the lock area on the door, before quickly pumping two rounds of buckshot into it, splintering the wood and shattering the iron the lockplate was made of. The booming of her weapon echoed down the corridors and halls; whoever was around would know something was up.
Ah well. Wasn't about to let someone get tortured in front of me, by my enemies at any rate.
My Qunari lover was not yet done. Less than a second after the shots, she drew back her leg and gave the spot she had shot to pieces a vicious kick. The lock collapsed entirely and the door swung open so hard, it half-fell off the frame after hitting the wall beyond. Tam got out of the way before it had, and I casually tossed in the flashbang.
As the name suggests, it's a stun grenade, using an extremely bright light and a very loud bang to overwhelm the useful senses of anyone in a reasonable sized room. The former is brighter than a flash of lightning, and about as loud up close. And no doubt the Venatori inside had no idea to look away and cover their ears.
BANG
The grenade did its job, raising cries of pain from inside. I raised my weapon again and swept around the doorframe into the room, covering the sector immediately to the left as the others piled in to cover the rest of the room. There were two Venatori for me to take on, both dressed in white jester-like outfits with mail underneath, the strange fashion of many military mages in Tevinter at the time.
I shot the first according to who seemed to be the biggest threat, the guy seemed a little more aware as he brought his staff back to swing. A burst of three bullets made him lose his balance and fall backwards, quite dead.
The second Venatorus managed to get a barrier around himself before my muzzle drifted his way and the flashes of the others shooting began filling the room like a nightclub light show. He must've been quite powerful, because it saved his life from the first three bullets before the magic shattered like glass, allowing the second wave splattered his insides onto the floor.
"Clear!" I shouted.
"Clear!" Julie shouted back.
"Clear!" Ciara followed.
"...Not quite clear," Tam said, in a strange tone of voice.
I turned, half expecting to find some absurd magical display... only to watch Sister Nightingale, hanging from the ceiling in irons, choking the last mage to death with her legs. There were Venatori corpses everywhere, five without the man being killed presently. She completed her task by twisting the man's neck with her thighs.
Hot.
"Maker above..." Julie exclaimed in Orlesian, as she lit up a flashlight on the end of her weapon. We all flipped our NV goggles up again, just in case we couldn't recharge them easily later.
It seemed like Sister Nightingale had been through very rough handling in captivity, though not the sort you'd expect a beautiful woman to go through... at least there was no evidence of that, she was still very much clothed, armoured partially in chainmail even. Possibly to put even more strain on her. Aside from dangling by her arms in a stress position, her face was pockmarked, like she had some kind of disease. Her eyes were sunken and the skin around them darkened.
"She is Blighted," Tam said, "It is at an advanced stage, she should be a ghoul or dead. I do not understand..." Some more evidence of Corypheus' ability to manipulate the Blight, and how he passed that knowledge onto subordinates, including Alexius.
"She is still in these stocks," Nightingale growled, "If you don't mind." Fair enough point, I thought.
Before I could move to help, Pentaghast burst past me, Solas with her. It seems the two of them had tagged along without asking. "Leliana!" the Seeker said, grabbing up a key from the man who had his neck broken and shoving it into the lock to release her, "Thank the Maker you are alive."
"It seems I have these strangers to thank," Nightingale said, bitterly, "Who else is alive?"
Pentaghast listed off those who had been imprisoned with her and were still breathing, before adding, "Dorian Pavus is here, he brought this group and freed us."
Nightingale looked us over again. "And the Herald?" she asked.
"Not with us," Pentaghast said sadly, "Alexius did not kill them, but used a time spell. Dorian ended up here, with the new ones. The Herald we have not found yet, and may never."
Solas began a round of healing magic over Nightingale's wrists and arms, without a word, while stealing looks at us. He must have had many questions. His counterpart would, when we eventually met him.
"I should not have asked, it does not matter," Nightingale rasped, "The Magister is probably in his chambers. Do you have more weapons?"
"Over here!" Ciara called from a corner, kicking a dead guy off of a chest among a collection of four or five, "Looks like all your stuff is still here."
"Gotta love when the prison guards keep your things in convenient spots," I joked to Julie and Tam, recalling our own prison break once again.
"It does make escaping easy if you can get to it," Julie smiled back.
Nightingale's mad blue eyes tracked to us, as Solas finished up the healing. "I do not suppose you have one of those for me?" she asked in Orlesian, pointing at my firelance, "It was suitably destructive." Exactly the sort of mood I would be in.
"No," I said, categorically. Not a damn chance, lady. Not yet, anyway.
"Pity," she replied, moving off to open the chests and find her own.
I activated my radio again. "We're clear in here," I said, "Bring the locals to tool up, and then guard the corridor." Solas looked on as I spoke.
I wasn't letting the people we had freed out of my sight, so I knew what toys they would have. There was a lot of things we hadn't told each other, like what the hell happened so that they were describing it as the 'end of the world'. I'm sure our lack of interest on that point had raised suspicions.
Solas finally wandered up to me, while watching the others file in to get their stuff, grateful to have at least one last fight before they died.
"Those weapons," he inquired, "Where did you get them?" He picked an empty shell casing off the ground, inspecting it.
An irritating question. Everyone always wanted to hear about the guns.
"My home country," I replied, truthfully but not complete in my explanation, "Don't worry, you'll get to see them in action yourself before this is all over." He hadn't been in the room when we had used them, after all.
The other escapees didn't seem to have anything particularly scary in their arsenal, except for Tethras, who had a four-armed crossbow that seemed to include honest-to-God rails for putting telescopic sights on it. A weapon worthy of my respect, certainly. As they began layering on the armour and weapons, I turned to Tam.
"Do you think the Joining will work on her?" I said, talking about Sister Nightingale.
"Without the Venatori to stop the Taint from killing her, she will die anyway," Tam said with absolute certainty, "And soon. The Joining is worth the risk, though we should wait until we are in a more secure place. The process knocks the person unconscious."
"How could I forget?" I replied.
"You have the necessary materials?" Solas asked, joining a conversation he was not invited to participate in.
"Enough for one person," Tam confirmed, "Can you please inform her? I need to speak to the rest of our people." And with that, she left... Not to speak to anyone, but to avoid the strange man staring at us. Solas was trying to work out who and what we were, ever curious.
I suppose that's how he had so much power in the end, curiosity leads you to useful information.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is part of a double upload of chapters, as I had to split this one with the next one as combined they topped 15k words. The next chapter button may not appear and the chapter itself may not appear in the chapter list, so feel free to manually edit the number 90 in the website address to 91 if this is the case.
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