Fort Drakon

CONTENT:
Rating: Teen
Flavor: Adventure/Drama
Language: yes
Violence: yes
Nudity: no
Sex: no
Other: none

Author's Notes:

I don't know if I already had a chapter named Fort Drakon. If so, then this one is named... "Stairs!"

special thanks to ShebasDawn for beta reading!

Fort Drakon

==#==

Bannon looked around, panting, but there were no more darkspawn - not alive. There was a swath of bodies around him.

"Wow, cousin!" The voice from behind startled him, and he whirled. Of course, it was only Shianni. He hadn't been able to sense her approach. "You make one hell of a Grey Warden."

"Yeah, I-" The cocky reply died on his lips when he felt the Archdemon's presence resonate in his bones. He turned back towards the gate, looking up. The Archdemon scythed through the sky. He saw it looking at him. Coming for him. It swooped.

"Get back!" he yelled, though his feet were rooted to the spot. He couldn't endanger his people.

The immense dragon dove low over the Drakon River and unleashed a white-hot ball of hell on the bridge. Stones exploded into the air, rained outward. Bannon was thrown back, nearly on his ass, and chunks of paving and mortar slammed down around him.

"Is that Riordan?" he heard Alistair say. The Templar ran up beside him.

The Archdemon swept past the tower at the gate, and a lone figure leapt from out onto the beast's back. How in the Darkened City Riordan had known to climb and wait there, Bannon didn't know.

He and Alistair held their breaths, waiting for the Grey Warden to finish the Archdemon and end the Blight.

Riordan got astride the base of the neck as the dragon rose. He hunched, stabbed with his swords. It didn't seem it would do anything - bee stings to a beast so huge and armored- but the attacks were powered by a Warden's strength and determination.

The great demon roared and bucked in the air. Riordan struck with a singular purpose, determined to kill this monster even if he had to hack its neck off inch by inch. Black blood rained down as the beast climbed higher into the sky.

Then it swerved, tipping sideways. For a racing heartbeat, Riordan hung in the air. Then he fell.

He twisted, lashed out with hand and foot. One sword pierced the hardened leather of the Archdemon's wing. Then he stabbed through with the other. The dragon screamed again, staggered in the sky. Could a fall kill it?

It flapped, and Riordan held on, but his swords began to cut through the wing. Faster and faster; he was at the mercy of gravity. He ran out of wing and plummeted, down down... to the city streets far below.

A great swath of the Archdemon's wing hung loose. The creature faltered in the air, unable to gain lift.

It flapped, limped crookedly across the city skyline. With a determined heave, it flung itself up against the tower of Fort Drakon. It roared in frustration, summoning its minions. Then it began to climb.

Far below, across the city, Alistair and Bannon breathed again. Numbly, they considered what they had witnessed.

"He's grounded it for us," Alistair said.

"On top of the highest tower. Great," Bannon added. He turned away from the ruined bridge. They'd have to cut through the Denerim Estate. "We'll need mages and Templars."

Oghren grumbled as the elf passed him. "Twiddlers and skirt-wearers? What's wrong with good, stout dwarves? We're ready!"

"It's on top of a tower," Bannon reiterated, pointing high into the air. "Stairs!"

"So?"

"Trust me, stairs are bad."

"We got stairs in Orzammar," the dwarf grumbled.

"The Legion are ready," Karadol added.

"The Legion and Oghren can come. The rest of you, stay here and secure the alienage!"

==#==

At least the Dalish listened. Bannon hadn't wanted them in the alienage, but they were there now. Half the non-Legion dwarves tagged along with the Wardens. Alistair told the Templars and mages to get ready. They left half the healers, under Wynne's leadership, in the estate to tend to the wounded. They took all their battle mages, along with Morrigan. Shale elected to stay with Wynne. No one knew where Sten went, probably out facing darkspawn 'til he died. Everyone else headed to Fort Drakon.

The dwarves didn't make it up the stairs. Not when the steps were set at human height. The Legion remained on the fifth floor, barring the passage of any darkspawn who heeded the Archdemon's wailing call.

The mages flew lightly upwards, the Templars at a more conservative pace. The Wardens had their strength and stamina to draw on, but Bannon still cursed every flight. Zevran saved his breath for wheezing.

They slowed as they approached the roof access, for want of having strength for the fight. Bannon called a halt, at ease with a delay, as the Archdemon wasn't going anywhere. "Catch your breath," he directed. "We have time."

After a minute of heeding his own advice, he issued orders to his troops. "This is imperative! You must not kill the Archdemon. Do everything you can to cripple it, immobilize it, but it must be a Grey Warden who deals the final blow. This is not for our glory - the Taint unleashed by this beast will corrupt anyone who gets too close to it without the protection the Wardens have."

He looked over the mages, hoping none of them, or the Templars, got any ideas about stealing the glory. But no, these were educated mages and disciplined Templars. "Let us take another moment to gather ourselves and pray."

Zevran said, "We should scout ahead, you and I. See what the situation is before we charge in there."

"Sneak up on the Archdemon, kill it ourselves before the others arrive?" Bannon smiled with fond memories of doing that in several situations.

"If the opportunity presents itself. Why not?"

Bannon pressed a hand to his head. "I can't go," he realized. "It will know."

"I will do it," Zevran said, and slipped away before Bannon could argue.

==#==

Greagoir and Irving sat at the foot of the stairs with Alistair. "There's ballistae up there," the Warden was saying. "As I recall."

The Knight Commander nodded. "I'll take three small groups to secure and man those."

"As long as none of them lands a heart shot, we should be good," Alistair said distractedly. He rubbed his head.

"The Templars will form a shield wall in an arc before the entrance. The mages can cast from behind us, and any wounded can be pulled back into the shelter of the entryway."

"That will not work," said Zevran, walking over with Bannon in tow. "I have scouted ahead. At the top of these stairs is a long straight hall leading to the rooftop area. The Archdemon can peer down it and shoot its flame into it, cooking us all."

The assassin hunkered down with the rest of the war council. He drew a dagger and scratched a sketch into the stone floor. "The hall is here. It opens into a circle of six walls, but is lopsided, here. This may be a cozy place to shelter your mages, or a death trap if the Archdemon incinerates everyone all at once."

Bannon said, "Instead of one wall, you should have smaller, more mobile groups. If it targets any one, they can retreat, and the others attack its flanks."

"Just so." Zevran nodded. "There are five ballistae, here, here, here..." He poked with the dagger at his map. "They are all facing outwards of course. It will be no easy matter to get them hauled around."

"And," Bannon noted, "They are big, stationary targets. You think it's not worth the risk?"

"I think it would be fabulous to have a huge wooden shaft stuck through the hindquarters of this terrible beast. Two men can attempt to turn them. They will need to be replaced quickly if they fall."

Greagoir nodded grimly.

"How's the Archdemon look?" Alistair asked warily.

"Huge."

"Bigger than the dragon in Highever?"

"Much."

"Brasca," said Bannon.

"Its wing is torn and cannot support it long in flight. But, sadly, the limb itself is not crippled. It bleeds from the neck, but..." The assassin shrugged. "Again, sadly, not as much as we would like."

"Ideas for strategy?"

"Just the usual. It may be vulnerable in the armpit and groin. I am not so sure about the belly in particular, as that has scales. The knights should concentrate on hacking at its limbs - leg muscles especially. If it is crippled and cannot turn, we will be at a better advantage."

Alistair added, "Watch out for the tail."

"And the wings."

Greagoir said, "I will find men for ballistae duty." He went to look for volunteers among his troops.

Alistar said, "What's our plan of attack?"

"The hallway is a deathtrap," Bannon insisted. "And it'll sense us as soon as we step foot in it." He took a breath. "The mages and Templars will have to deploy first. And it would be best if the Archdemon were distracted away from the tunnel." He looked over at Zevran.

The assassin smiled. "I will go ahead and capture its attention. After all, it is just a big lizard!"

Bannon felt his throat constrict until he couldn't speak. He nodded.

Before the assassin could reply, the Archdemon shrieked, it's keening wail ripping through the air, through the very stones of the Keep. Zevran winced as the sound lanced through his spine and skull. Only decades of weathering abuse and torture allowed him to supress the urge to clap his hands over his ears. Everyone else did - even stoic Greagoir and stodgy Irving. It probably didn't help, anyway.

"What's happening?" Greagoir shouted over the din.

The Wardens hadn't stopped their ears, which wasn't surprising, them being made of sterner stuff. But more troublesome, they had that glazed-eye faraway look, and trembled like rabbits about to flee.

Zevran punched Bannon in the arm. The Denerim elf recoiled against Alistair. At least it let him shake off whatever it was.

Alistair, voice still a bit distant, said, "It's summoning the Horde."

"Here?" Greagoir asked in alarm.

Zevran interrupted. "It is the perfect time to sneak up on it." The howl paused for the dragon to breathe, then arose again with renewed power. "Snap out of it!" He punched the Wardens again.

"Ow," Alistair complained.

"We're about to start the attack. Are you going to join us when it is time?"

"Yes. Yes, we're ready." The knight rubbed his head again. Bannon crossed his arms and gripped his biceps. He nodded again.

Greagoir and Irving readied their troops to deploy. Zevran said, "Wait for my signal, then rush out as swiftly as you can."

"What is your signal?" Greagoir asked as the First Mage cast protections over the assassin.

"It will be quite loud, don't worry." Zevran flashed a grin, and one of the grenades he still had left. He shot a wink at Bannon, but not one for long good-byes, he darted ahead without another word.

Bannon swallowed hard. He didn't know what he'd do if Zevran died, but he couldn't think about that now. He might not have long enough to worry about it. The Archdemon could kill him... or, potentially worse, he could kill it, and risk the annihilation of his very soul.

His eyes sought Morrigan, where she stood among the mages like a raven in the dovecote. She did not look his way.

==#==

"Are we gonna aid the Wardens or not?" Oghren snapped. "Ya bunch of namby-pamby, wobble-kneed... dead guys!"

"I said, we're heading downstairs!" Kardol stepped up and rammed his breastplate against Oghren's. The warrior was braced for it and barely budged.

"Wardens are upstairs!"

"With five times as many stairs between here and there! Fucking battle will be over by the time we get there."

"The Treaty says we help the Wardens!"

"They said to guard against the horde!" Kardol gave an extra shove to emphasize each word. "It's stupid to wait inside a fortress when we can stop 'em at the gates!"

"The Horde ain't here! There's a damned city fulla soldiers and guards and sodding elves between there and-"

A rising wail obliterated the rest of his words. The two dwarven warriors jumped back from each other.

"Bleeding Ancestors!"

"My sodding teeth!" Oghren rubbed his jaw until eventually the noise subsided. "The fuck was that?"

"Tainted call," the Dead Legionnaire informed him. "The darkspawn howl something like that just before the tunnels flood with 'em."

"Shit."

The infernal howl rose again, through the very stones of the fortress.

"We go down to the gate!" Kardol yelled over the din.

This time, Oghren didn't argue.

==#==

A scream rolled through the sky like thunder. All the healers looked up in worry. Wynne stood and grabbed her staff. "Keep the circles unbroken," she admonished the young mages.

She herself went to the gate, leaning heavily on her staff. Her eyes sought out the Tower above the skyline, as her mind played over the possibilities.

Shake stomped up beside her. "What racket is this?"

"It must be the Archdemon."

"Is it hurt? It cries out like any other squishy creature."

Wynne detected a hint of worried bravado in the golem's voice. "Somehow, I think we're not so lucky." She felt a surge of the spirit inside her, making up her mind. "We have to get there."

"I will not carry you."

"No, Shale." She took a breath and walked out of the estate grounds. "I can hurry. But if you could please close those gates?"

"A trifling matter."

The metal slammed home, and the golem's stone tread paced behind her.

"This is the way the Horned One went," Shale mused.

"Perhaps we'll meet him on the way."

==#==

Teagan's arm ached from swinging his sword. Not time to rest, it was fight or die. Don't think about the enormity of the endless Horde. Just focus on the ones in front of you. Attack, defend, strike.

Then, a space opened around him. He panted for breath. Was that it? Then he heard it. A distant wail, a howl in the blackened skies.

The darkspawn flowed away, like the retreating tide. Teagan staggered back a step, glanced to Murdock at his side.

"Blessed Maker," panted the sheriff. "Are they retreating?"

Teagan dared not hope. Had they won?

No. Shouts came up the line, through the streets. The Horde was heading north, into the city, not away from it.

Teagan turned to look at the spire of Drakon's mighty tower. The distant siren wail seemed to emanate from it.

"Ser?" Murdock asked. "What's it mean?"

"It means our work is not yet done." Teagan trotted to the closest group of city guardsmen. "We need to cut them off! Rally the troops! Defend the city!"

Shouts passed up and down the lines. The human armies dug deep into the reserves of their strength to answer the call. To defend their people, to the last.

==#==

Shianni watched, mouth agape, as the darkspawn fled, en masse. Even over the broken bridge, leaping into the polluted water of the Drakon river. Well, it can't get any dirtier.

Around her, the elves of Denerim let out a ragged cheer. Those that still stood, and had enough voice. The Dalish, however, remained stone.

Their leader, Dakorian, appeared at her side. "This does not bode well."

"Y'think?"

Shianni shouldered her bow and climbed to a higher rooftop. To the north, she could see darkspawn retreating through the market. But the streets to the east and west filled with more shadowy shapes from the south. "They're heading... there!" She pointed as the Dalish Hunter climbed up beside her. "Fort Drakon! Where the Archdemon went. Where-" She gasped in realization. "Where Bannon and his friends went! We have to stop them!"

Without waiting for a response, she leapt down to the next level. As she got within earshot of the archers, she began yelling out orders to group leaders. "You! Ben! Siri! Double-time through the estate! We need to kill those darkspawn as they come through Watchtower road. Akin! Guard the healers! You lot-!" She stumbled to a halt as the Dalish archers gave her a cold stare.

She licked her lips. "Cambrin, Lessa! You guys know the Gold Road, right? You hang out with Bannon enough." The Gold Road was a thieves' route over the rooftops around the markets square and into the noble quarter. "Take the Dalish, spread out, feather those darkspawn!"

The thieves looked askance at her, and the Dalish, who still stared.

Shianni was about to go full redhead on them, but then their eyes went past her. She turned and saw Dakorien. "Look-" she started.

He held up an imperious hand and she fumed. But then he said, "We will follow the - the durgathan hahren. She knows the lay of the land."

With that, the city elves and wild elves became one.

"All right!" Shinanni dusted her hands with a loud clap. "Let's move! Zak! Organize the archers! We'll need a relay of runners supplying arrows and healing kits. Let's move!"

==#==

Sten stood inside the gate of the human kingdom's great fortress, Asala gleaming in his hand. The Wardens had gone this way, and it was clear the Archdemon would call the Horde this way as well. At last, he could face them, one-on-thousands, as he was sentenced to.

He took a deep, calming breath.

"Who's that blighter?"

"Hey, Horny!"

Sten blew his calming breath back out in ire and turned. Dwarves, some in black, some in silver or red, came across the courtyard. "I see it is the Hairy One," he commented. "What are you doing here? Were you not to aid the Wardens?"

The red one shot a look at the black one. "We're aidin' the Wardens," he grumbled.

"Get out of the way," said the other. "We're closing the gate."

"No."

"Look, dumbass, do I have to explain the whole plan to ya? Step one, lock the bloody sodding gate and let 'em break their teeth tryin' to open it."

Sten had to grudgingly admit, the dwarves' plan was a sound strategy. He even said so to the human saarebas when she showed up with the golem.

"The Legion crossbowyers will feather them from the walls," the black dwarf explained to all the newcomers. "The inside of the courtyard will be thick with traps." He gestured to the Legionnaires busy working on the flagstone floor. "Then the regulars can hold 'em at the door."

The mage asked, "How will your Legionnaires retreat inside?"

The dwarf just gave her a flat look. "They won't."

"But-"

"We're already dead, remember?"

"But-"

"Humboldt is in charge of the warriors. Look to him for commands."

Oghren said, "I thought I was in charge!"

To which Kardol said, "Oghren, you ain't in charge of but two things. Jack, and shit."

"And Jack just left town," Humboldt added.

The redhead growled.

Wynne said, "Oghren, you're with the Grey Warden auxiliary. You can be my personal guard, along with Shale."

"The Hairy One is not in charge of me," the golem stated.

"I'm in charge of me!" Oghren burst out. "Legion of One!"

==#==

According to Zevran's later recounting, he strolled out onto the roof of Fort Drakon, casually tossing and catching a grenade in one hand, while the Archdemon was 'caterwauling like a lovesick alley cat behind a whorehouse.' When he arrived at the wall furthest from the entryway, he looked up and yelled, 'Hey, you stupid ugly big lizard - shut the fuck up!'

The Archdemon snapped its jaw shut and blinked down at him, stupefied. Zevran may or may not have then flipped it the bird (depending on how many embellishments he was adding to his story), upon which it snarled angrily and spat out a gout of black flame that smelled worse than 'a dozen Antivan tanneries put together.'

Zevran dove and rolled out of the way, came up with the grenade cocked back, and threw it straight into the beast's maw, where it detonated loudly, engulfing the Archdemon's head in a gout of orange flame and smoke.

'Oops,' thought Zevran, 'I wasn't supposed to kill it.' But fortunately, it didn't die. Just got more pissed off.

No one wanted to believe this version of the story, but one young mage insisted he had heard the Antivan yell out that exact phrase. And, of course, everyone heard the explosion.

After that, the mages cast protections, the Templars raced into action, and the battle dissolved into pockets of chaos.

==#==

When Bannon arrived, corpses already littered the flagstones. Templars were forming lines of defense, and the Archdemon was spewing Tainted flame across them, or sweeping them aside with its tail. There was a suit of armor against the wall, chestplate crumpled, helm and arms askew, blood leaking from every joint and tear.

But he also saw mages behind the Circle's knights, casting. Armor glowed with magical protection. Fallen knights arose, their injuries healed. Fire, ice, lightning, and leven-bolts assaulted the beast. When it lunged for the mages, Templars threw themselves in its path, human shields to protect their charges.

It was a brief glimpse of a powerful alliance, not of keepers and their dangerous prisoners.

Bannon tore his eyes away from the bodies to look for Zevran among the living. "Split up," he told Alistiar. "Good luck."

"You, too."

They traced different paths to the Archdemon. It was huge, its presence overwhelming to the Wardens' minds. They had to hold to their purpose, to kill it. At all costs.

Bannon felt the warmth and tingle of magical protections around him. At least that part of the plan was working. Lightning and flame lit the air in violent flashes. Screams and blasts of magical power filled the towertop arena.

==#==

Darkspawn howls filled the courtyard beyond the fort's mighty doors. They screamed, they growled, they grew ever closer. Vocalizations of the living became fewer and far between. Wynne couldn't take it anymore. "Open the doors!"

"Are you mad?" Commander Humbolt replied.

"I can save them!"

"No! We stick to the plan! The doors stay shut."

Oghren growled, "Humbolt, you puking coward!"

Shale nudged him aside. "If you wish the doors open," he told Wynne, "Here." The golem lifted the massive bar out of the way, pulled the leftmost door open.

The mage hurried into the breach, before the dwarven warriors could intervene. With a shout, she cast her stone fist, which blasted down upon the courtyard of writhing darkspawn like a meteor from the heavens.

Shale barrelled out and went to Sten's side, rallying the flagging qunari. Together, they drove the horde back. Wynne cast a healing circle, revitalizing the Legion within the courtyard.

"Retreat!" Kardol yelled, but he stood his ground. His hammer and Oghren's axe went to work beside the giants.

Tainted bodies piled up. Then something shot into the air, little more than a blur with a high-pitched shriek. Before the warriors could react, it darted around them, and leapt on the back of the last Legionnaire. The rest turned, struck out at it.

With another inhuman cry, it darted inside, dodging blows. It attacked the reserve dwarves.

"Get back inside!" Wynne yelled, leading the way.

The two dwarves, qunari, and golem fell back, pursued by the ravening horde. Within, the reserve dwarves struggled to close the door against the tide. One by one, the shriek pounced and felled them. The air grew thick with the smell of blood and the unholy Taint.

Wynne turned, threw her arms outward. "Spiritus Defendat!"

A silent wave of white light burst forth, bathing the entire area. Tainted beasts howled and died, turned to ash. Fallen warriors rose again, hale and well. Together, they rushed the doors, pushed them shut. Shale fetched the bar and slammed it into place.

"There!" The golem turned. "Is there anything else the mage req- Wynne?"

The mage lay crumpled on the floor; Shale moved carefully to her side and crouched down. "Wynne!"

She stirred, her eyelids fluttering.

Sten looked to the dwarves. "Where are the healers?"

"Up top, with the Wardens."

"They must come, at once!" Shale insisted.

Wynne reached a hand up to him. "No, Shale."

"You require aid."

"I'm too weak. My time is up."

Stone brows clashed in a frown. "No. No, I will carry you." Gently, Shale took her frail form in his arms, and stood, cradling her to his chest. He turned and headed for the stairs.

==X==