CHAPTER 22
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Author's Note: Hi guys! Hope you're staying healthy! I just wanted to apologize for the errors I left behind in Chapter 21. I re-read it today and hadn't noticed them until now. I made the corrections to it and reposted it (no need to re-read as it was purely a cleanup issue). Thank you for your ongoing support in this story. And thanks to those who have left me reviews. :).
Quick disclaimer... I do not own Dragon Age. This fic is purely for fun and not meant to make any monetary gain.
Disembodied whispers crowded Everil's head, the taint pulling on her being as one would a string. It yanked on her blood, its call ever stronger the closer they came to the infernal red glow at the end of this long, dark tunnel. Bestial growls and demonic cries joined in a growing crescendo, chanting to the beat of the thousand marching feet thundering ahead like a raging storm. The pungent smell of rotting flesh and sweat and waste pervaded the already thin air, saturating every breath in an almost overwhelming stench.
Hesitating, the Wardens and their party emerged from the cave and into a large chamber. A glowing chasm split the ground, circling a towering dwarven structure while casting everything in its hellish hue. Forcing down her nausea, Everil led them closer to look over the edge. And her blood ran cold at what she saw below.
Hundreds. Thousands of torches flowed like a river along its depths as a legion of darkspawn went to war in their full, unstoppable force. Their numbers crowded the vast cliff, extending its entire length while more spawned from the black beyond the horizon.
"Andraste's mercy…" Wynne gasped beside her. "Look at them..."
"We could never defeat them all… Not even with a unified Ferelden," Everil uttered, the burden on their shoulders made heavier by the true scope of their task.
A deafening roar shook the ground as a great beast shot up from the deep like an eruption.
They jumped back with startled cries and they all stared in horror at the thing of nightmares, time itself standing still in fright.
Midnight black scales shimmered with the fiery red of the flames as it flew over them. Its mighty cries pierced through the darkspawn's mindless cadence and filled the Wardens' heads with dark, unintelligible words. Its influence stood supreme. Its presence suffocating. Calling to them. Commanding them to follow and join the ranks of its soldiers as they headed for battle against man, dwarf, and elf alike.
All were to be punished. All were to be conquered.
All were to be vanquished in the name of the Old God.
"The Archdemon..." Everil breathed, an indescribable fear gripping her chest as her instincts screamed for her to flee. To hide.
It landed heavily, claws burying in the rock as it perched itself atop the stone bridge ahead. With a great, ear-piercing roar, it released a stream of searing purple fire, rallying its army as the darkspawn raised their weapons with a fervent battle cry.
"That's the beast you have to kill?" Oghren muttered, his body tensing with the craving to fight, while reason demanded he stay away.
As if hearing Oghren's words, it snapped its head towards the group, surprising them all. It set its sights on the two Grey Wardens and its blood-red eyes narrowed as a deep growl rumbled from deep within its throat. Alistair and Everil could only stare back, rooted to the spot as the monster's penetrating glare seemed to pierce into their very souls.
With a vicious snarl, the Archdemon turned its back to them, and with one last frightening roar, it took to the air once more. It flapped massive wings, releasing gusts of wind that swept throughout the chamber as it rose towards a wide fissure above it, disappearing through the ceiling as the darkspawn followed from the ground.
"Maker's breath…" Alistair said in barely a whisper, finally finding the ability to speak. "It… It didn't even care about us being here. It just… ignored us as if we were nothing..."
"Yes... and now it's headed towards the surface… To Ferelden." Everil's hands closed into fists, her fear giving way to anger and renewed determination.
That the dragon left its lair meant they were running out of time. The Blight had spread far enough to make the creature feel secure and emboldened. And it was now heading the next assault upon her homeland, intent on ravaging and destroying it. If they didn't finish their job soon, there would be no Ferelden left to save.
Her jaw set stubbornly. Even while outnumbered, defeat was not an option. She would not let it win.
"All right…" She whipped around to her companions. "Let's keep moving."
At her command they walked along the fissure, quickening their pace into a run, heading for the stone bridge the dragon had stood upon. A sizeable group of darkspawn saw them coming as they crossed, their numbers blocking their advance as they rushed to meet them, armed and ready.
"Charge!" Everil screamed, drawing her weapons as she ran. They followed.
With a cry of her own, Wynne let her magic surge through her, unleashing a freezing wave upon the darkspawn's path, the ice crawling its way up their bodies. Everil and Alistair didn't top, their blades tearing through their frozen forms, shattering them into pieces, before slashing through the stragglers on their way through. They moved on without looking back to see if they left any standing, heading for the next group of enemies, while their mage kept a safe distance at the rear. The monsters stood between them and the gates to the Anvil's resting place, gathering over the steps to keep them from entering.
The genlocks aimed and fired their arrows down at them while Everil dodged and swiped at the projectiles with her sword, rushing up the steps and burying her blades into the first enemy as Oghren and Shale took care of those trying to flank them from the sides. The dwarf roared, nearly slicing a hurlock in half, while the golem pummeled several at once.
After stabbing a genlock, Alistair crossed the distance to the door, pushing it open for the party to dash in. He stepped in with them and Shale slammed the gate shut, using her hands to twist the iron handles into a knot just as the darkspawn began to bang on it. "It will not keep them out long, but it will do for now," she told them, turning glowing blue eyes to her panting companions.
"Good enough... Thank you, Shale," Everil replied, wiping sweat from her brow. "How are you faring, Wynne?"
The old mage nodded with a reassuring smile, out of breath herself. "I only need a minute to regain some of my mana."
"Very well... But I'm afraid that's all we'll have." Everil gave her a pat on the shoulder and took a few steps past her.
"This place is gigantic…" Alistair stared in amazement at the towering ruins stretching before them. He was standing next to Oghren as Everil approached them from behind.
"Its actual name was Bownammar—the City of the Dead—before we lost it over and over to the darkspawn. Dwarven architecture at its finest. Caridin himself designed it," Oghren said proudly, producing his flask of liquor. "It used to belong to the Legion of the Dead—a special branch of our military. Soldiers who give up their lives in life to defeat their enemy at any cost. It's a damned shame these sodded bastards took it from us." He grumbled as he uncorked it and then took a swig.
Everil crossed her arms, a frown creasing her brow. "How in Andraste's name did Branka make it through here?"
"She's the most stubborn woman I've ever met. That should tell you something, considering I'm a dwarf who also happens to live in a city full of other dwarves." Oghren then belched, drawing a disgusted look from the Wardens before taking another drink, his plump nose turning a shade of red. A scowl then settled over his face. "Unfortunately, we got no map for this area here… We'll have to take our chances exploring."
Everil nodded. "We'll avoid enemies as best we can. I don't want to waste time or risk any of us getting injured."
"And where's the fun in that?" He chuckled gruffly. "You're right though. As much as I enjoy tearing these sons of bitches apart, there's way too many here for just the six of us."
"You should come with us after we're done here. There are plenty more to fight on the surface," Alistair said with a sarcastic smile. "It might even make you feel homesick."
"Hrmph…" Oghren smirked up at him. "You know, that actually sounds tempting. Never been to the surface before."
A powerful bang interrupted them, preceded by a monstrous roar as the gates shook under heavier assault.
Everil glanced at the noise. "Time's up. Let's go."
"Right behind you." Oghren put away his flask and drew his axe, a smirk still splitting his face.
.x.x.x.x.
The fortress was more of a gigantic crypt. The Wardens and their party trekked through the resting place of several dead dwarves when they stumbled upon more darkspawn, the narrow passages making it difficult to evade them. Everil kicked at a genlock, pushing it off her blades as a hurlock stepped over it to strike down at her, forcing her to block. She shoved its sword aside and sliced sideways, cutting its throat as her companions defeated more of them.
Another snuck up behind her. She whirled around, using her momentum to cut its head off. More of them gathered in the narrow passage, giving them little room to maneuver. Getting cornered was not an option.
"We can't fight here! Keep moving!" Everil commanded, motioning for them to run ahead of her. The group rushed past her before Everil went after them, the darkspawn giving chase. While running, she stepped on a loose tile and heard a click, something she instantly regretted.
She let out a squeal and leaped forward just in time to dodge a pair of enormous blades that lashed out in a criss-cross. Heart racing, she shakily turned onto her back, propping herself up to look. Several darkspawn fell into a pile of limbs, blood, and gore, on the very spot she'd been standing on but a moment before.
"Maker's breath!" Alistair and the others rushed toward her. "What was that?"
Everil gulped. "A trap... As if this place wasn't welcoming enough." She let him pull her up by the arm. "I suppose that's something more we will have to watch out for."
"Aye…" Oghren agreed. "Caridin probably has more waiting just around the corner."
"Marvelous…" Wynne muttered beside him.
Alistair sighed, gazing at the growling darkspawn still standing behind the trap. They seemed to hesitate, pacing angrily by the dismembered bodies of their peers. "Well, at least that'll keep them from following us..."
They emerged from the crypt and stepped out to another open chamber. Large double doors stood at the far side, towering over them. Their steps echoed around them as Everil neared one of them, reaching out to open it.
Her hand froze halfway and she whirled around. "More incoming!"
Two loud roars made her friends turn to a pair of ogres emerging from opposite sides of the room, looking to flank the party while drool dripped from their open maws. They stomped towards them like walking statues, lined with muscle, and with their blank stares focused on them.
"Aw, great…" Alistair groaned, resisting the urge to back away.
One of them hunched over, preparing to charge.
"Run!" Everil shouted in alarm.
And run they did, scattering as the beast rushed them with its horns.
The last ogre she and Alistair defeated during the battle of Ostagar had been their first, and the monster was tough to take down by just the two of them. Thankfully, they now had more numbers and their companions were skilled enough to stand their ground. Still, two ogres at once was pushing their luck. The group met up at once side, warily facing the creatures. "We should use the same tactic as last time," Alistair told Everil, eyes on the slowly approaching monsters.
"Right." Everil turned to their mage. "Wynne, can you freeze their legs?"
Wynne briefly scanned the enemy. "Their frames are too large, but I can slow them down."
"Do it." Everil then addressed the others. "We'll begin with our friend on the right. Aim for the knees. Make them buckle under its weight. Also, try not to let them grab you."
"Let's do this!" Oghren barked with a smirk.
With a wave of her staff, Wynne cast the spell, coating the beasts' legs in icy crystals that slowed their advance. And then the others charged, the first ogre releasing a frustrated roar as they began slashing at its knees. Shale gave its kneecap a punch, forcing it to buckle as its blood splattered. Then it was Everil's turn. She kicked its bent knee and bolted up to its throat, thrusting her blade into its flesh. It roared and gurgled out blood as it plummeted onto its back with the Warden on top.
They then moved on to the next just as the creature swiped down to grab Oghren, who rolled to dodge it before striking at its knee. It roared in pain and threw a fist, hitting only air. Everil stabbed the back of its leg, while Oghren swung at the front. Roaring in agony, it fell with a hand on the ground before Oghren's axe met its neck, slicing it open.
Once the giants lay dead, Everil glanced over her party with a slight smile and a nod. She sheathed her blades and strode to the doors. Her companions followed her, all keeping their guard up. Then she opened one of them, the stench that surged from within instantly making her stomach flop.
"Ugh…" Sickened, Everil carefully stepped in, greeted by a macabre sight. Piles of decomposing flesh covered the passage before them, dried blood and gore caked over the floors. It instantly reminded her of the horrors they witnessed at the Circle of Magi and the way demons tore apart and desecrated the dead.
Bjorn whined at the stench and Wynne covered her mouth, holding in the bile that threatened to rise as their feet squelched over the gore. "Maker… this is horrible."
"I wonder what happened here," Everil whispered, her voice strained.
"I… don't really want to know," Alistair muttered uncomfortably.
A distant whimper had them stop in their tracks.
"First day they come and catch everyone..."
"Who goes there?" Everil called out towards the depths of the long corridor.
"Second day they beat us and eat some for meat…"
The group willed themselves to move through the carnage, slow and steady, listening to the ominous female voice echoing from somewhere ahead.
"Third day the men are all gnawed on again…"
"Fourth day we wait and fear for our fate…"
"Whoever that is… she sounds familiar…" Oghren muttered, thick eyebrows pinched at the bridge of his nose.
"Fifth day they return and it's another girl's turn…"
"Sixth day her screams we hear in our dreams…"
"Seventh day she grew as in her mouth they spew…"
Deeper they went, through what looked like the vowels of damnation, trudging over more indistinguishable blobs of death. And that voice stroked at their nerves, testing their resolve.
"Eighth day we hated as she was violated…"
"Ninth day she grins… and devours her kin…!"
"Now she does feast as she became the beast…"
They turned the corner and saw a bigger mound of flesh. A dwarven woman clad in soiled, beige robes knelt before it, her back turned to them as she ate something in front of her. Sensing their eyes on her, she twisted her head to gaze over her shoulder, a piece of foul meat hanging from her mouth, short brown hair sticking to a clammy face.
Everil was forced to look away, her gut twisting at the sight.
"Ancestor's balls…" Oghren took a step, shocked. "It's Hespith…"
Alistair grimaced, revolted. "You… know her?"
"She's Branka's lover... The one she left me for when she found out she was more into women than men," Oghren grumbled at the Warden, then cast hard, questioning eyes upon the other dwarf. "Hespith… What happened? Where's Branka?"
She swallowed her meal and sluggishly rose to face them. Her skin was as white as ash, blisters lining her neck and forehead as if her own flesh were rotting. It took her time to focus on Everil, her voice distant. "What is this… a human? Feeding time brings only keen and clan…" She averted her stare, scratching the sores on her wrist. "I am cruel to myself… You are but a dream of strangers faces and open doors."
Hespith licked her cracked lips, silent for a moment. Then she spoke, once again repeating those cryptic words. "First day they come and catch everyone…"
"What is that chant…?" Everil finally braved the question.
"It's what I've seen…" she answered, still refusing to look her in the eye. "What I will become... I force it into verse so that it is fantasy. Unreal. That's the only place I can hide. Because they make me… they make me eat… And then…" Guilt riddled her features, her voice strained. "All I could do was wish Laryn went first… I wished it upon her so I could be spared. But I had to watch. I had to see the change. How do you endure that? How did Branka endure?"
"Endure… Endure what?" Everil probed further, unsure about her willingness to hear, but unable to stop herself.
"What they are allowed to do…" Anger then painter her words. "What they think they must do! And Branka… Her lover and I could not turn her… Forgive her… But no. She cannot be forgiven! Not for what she did. Not for what she has become!"
Oghren scowled questioningly. "What do you mean? What's Branka done?"
"No!" Hespith snapped weakly, anguished tears threatening to spill from her blackened eyes. "I will not speak of her… Of what she did. Of what we have become! I will not turn! I will not become what I have seen! Not Laryn! Not Branka!" She pushed past them and ran as if fleeing from her own demons, heading further into that hellish corridor.
"Come on. She'll lead us to where Branka went." Oghren went ahead of them, hurrying after her.
"How can you be so sure?" Everil frowned as she and the others followed his lead.
"She's the most loyal of the House. She may have lost it, but I'm sure that whatever mess Branka got herself into, she knows we can help her."
They quietly trailed Hespith as she continued to speak to herself. The words reverberated as if passing through the walls. Haunted. Pained.
"She became obsessed… That is the word… but it is not strong enough. Blessed stone… there was nothing left in her but the Anvil."
"We tried to escape. But they found us. They took us all. Turned us."
"The men they kill… They're merciful..."
"But the women… they want. They want to touch. To change until you are filled with them."
And Everil took in her story with a mixture of sadness and revulsion. Heard her torment and pictured the terrifying images in her mind.
"They took Laryn. They made her eat the others. Our friends. She tore off her husband's face… and drank his blood! And while she ate… she grew… She swelled and turned gray. And she smelled like them. They remade her in their image. Then she made more of them…"
"Broodmother…"
The hallway ended on a set of double doors and Everil paused, feeling something's presence within. She reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it as Oghren shifted beside her, while the others did the same behind her. And when they entered, what she found inside chilled her to the core. "Andraste's mercy…" she breathed.
The monster cast its empty stare upon them, wheezing through its nostrils and wiping drool from a lipless mouth with the back of its hand. A piece of chest armor dangled from its fat neck, dwarven made, the same mark from Branka's House painted over it. Rows of breasts lined down its grotesquely large torso and belly, while large tentacles twisted and writhed by the mass of flesh that was the bottom of its body. The stench of decay and bodily waste permeated the air they breathed, worse than in the hall they'd just crossed.
Resisting a gag, Everil gripped the door, struggling to keep herself from retching.
A howl escaped the creature as it appeared to strain, its tentacles reaching to pull something out from somewhere behind its rear. It brought it around and let it drop to the ground, the thing's body covered in green mucus, its features similar to those of the many genlock they'd slain before.
"What in the sodding...?" Oghren muttered, his face scrunched up. "That… That one of Branka's women?"
The genlock rose from the ground on unsteady feet, wobbling over to the monster that bred it from its loins. The mother whined again, birthing another and another, each one rising and stumbling before latching onto its ashen nipples, suckling upon them as it released an agonizing wail. More of them came crawling from around her, all seeking to feed, crowding it as they climbed over each other.
"Maker… This is…" Alistair swallowed, his own stomach struggling to endure. "This is how darkspawn reproduce. They turn captured women into… that… Now everything Hespith said makes sense..."
Wynne placed a hand over her chest. "The poor woman… No one deserves such a fate..."
"How does it plan for us to reach the next door with it in the way?" Shale told Everil with a nonchalant tone, obviously not bothered by what they were seeing. "I highly doubt it will let us through without a fight."
The Warden stepped forth, capturing the creature's attention, and that of its newborn offspring. "That used to be a dwarf..." Everil began as her companions stepped up behind her. "Not anymore."
The broodmother set pale, gray eyes on her.
She drew her blade. "Let's avenge her by killing that which she was forced to be."
Its massive roar shook the chamber, joined by the screeches of its offspring. The newborn genlock detached themselves from it, gathering around it before lunging themselves at them.
"Kill them all, then focus on the broodmother!" Everil cried out as they came.
Her sword swooshed as it cut down three of the brood, slicing through their naked bodies with ease. More rushed past her, aiming their tiny claws at the rest of the party. In moments, they surrounded them and black blood sprayed the ground, small limbs, and entrails covering the stone. But although they were easily dispatching the genlocks, they still managed to get past their defenses.
Everil bit down a grunt when one latched onto her leg, its fangs and claws digging into the leather of her leggings. She punched it off her and brought her blade down on it, stabbing through its bulbous head. Another slashed at her thigh, leaving a few scratches before it met its end. Behind her, Oghren, Alistair, and her hound battled several more, receiving minor scratches and bites of their own. Shale swept over them with a giant swing, smashing through their bodies and splattering their remains against the walls. From the rear, Wynne summoned a wave of flames, scorching what remained.
Seeing its children slaughtered, the broodmother released an ear-piercing screech that made them all cover their ears.
Oghren gritted his teeth. "You bitch!"
Clicking her tongue, Everil kicked forth, intent on shutting it up. But it struck out with one of its tentacles, trying to smash her. She stopped and leaped out of the way, the force of the impact cracking the rock floor like a hammer. More tentacles shot out. One hit Alistair's shield, knocking him back a few feet. The other slammed onto Shale, cracking one of the crystals adorning her body and nearly toppling her over. With a grunt, Everil rose and ran, closing the distance. She stabbed into its belly and Bjorn pounced, closing his powerful jaws on a tentacle, keeping it down and away from his mistress. Shale stomped quickly to the monster, punching a hole into its side.
The broodmother screamed.
Darkspawn answered its call, pouring into the breeding chamber. Hurlocks and genlocks jumped from a passage above, rushing between them and the mother. Their numbers swiftly separated them from it, their weapons clashing with theirs.
Grunting, Alistair blocked a jagged blade with his shield, pushing it aside to plunge his sword into the hurlock'sgut. He pivoted on one foot to deflect another attack, then cut through the next. A genlock came in from behind him, its axe scraping his hip plates. Alistair slammed the edge of his shield onto its head, then thrust, plunging his blade into its skull.
Everil kicked at another hurlock's feet, tripping it and pouncing on it to impale it. She bolted up and struck at a genlock, spinning and cutting across its face before burying her dagger into the side of its head. From the back of the chamber, Wynne cast a thunder spell, shocking several enemies. Using the opportunity, Oghren cut down each one. Until something wrapped around his neck, lifting him off the ground as he released a strangled cry.
"Oghren!" Everil called out.
The broodmother salivated, eyeing what was to be its next meal as Oghren struggled to break himself free.
Cursing under her breath, Everil sheathed her blades and readied her bow, aiming for the head. "Drop the dwarf!" She fired. The arrow impaled itself between its eyes and deep into its skull, causing it to release its hold on Oghren.
The broodmother whined and whimpered, black blood dripping down its face. Everil switched weapons once more, ready to end it. She bolted forward, sprinting in and climbing onto the monster's back. Her blades swooshed in a criss-cross, lacerating the back of its neck and splitting apart its spine.
Finishing a spell, Wynne unleashed a searing wave of fire that burned all in its wake, her expert control keeping the flames focused only on their enemies. Then just as soon as it came, the blaze dissipated, leaving nothing but seared bodies. The old mage fell on her knees, panting heavily.
"Well done."
She gazed up towards the golem, who reached down to pat her back. Wynne could only smile tiredly, too drained to speak.
"Is everyone all right?" Everil asked the others as she hopped from the dead abomination, receiving a weak nod from Wynne and a happy bark from her hound. They were all bruised and dirty, but much of the blood had come from the darkspawn.
Panting for breath, Alistair strode to the grotesque being that had once been a dwarf, gazing up as the creature hung its head, too wide and heavy to fall over. And he wondered how many of these unfortunate victims lied in the Deep Roads. How many other innocents suffered the same fate. I feel sick just thinking about it…
"That's where they take us…"
They all turned their eyes up to Hespith, who stood on the passage overhead, looking upon them while scratching her sores. "That's where they come from. That's why they hate us. That's why they need us. That's why they take us… That's why they feed us…"
"Hespith!" Oghren took a step, roaring at her, unable to comprehend what he'd just witnessed. What he's heard. "Why did this—"
Everil's hand gripped his shoulder, silencing him.
"But the true abomination… is not that it occurred to us." Hespith sobbed and shuddered. "It is that it was allowed... Branka, my love... The Stone has punished me, my dream-friends. I am dying of something worse than death. Betrayal…"
And she disappeared once more, her whimpers echoing through the chamber and beyond. In the dark corners of the ruins. Until they were heard no more.