CHAPTER 17

..x..

The party climbed up more stairs and entered another hall. A demonic scene greeted them as the corruption caused by the maleficarum bled into their world, overtaking everything it touched. More purple and red mounds of glowing flesh hung from the ceiling and clung to the walls and the floor, their rotten stench so pungent that breathing was almost unbearable. Severed limbs and burned bodies littered their path, their feet making a squelching noise as they trekked over the gore.

"Maker..." Wynne whimpered, nauseated by it all.

"It… It looks like this is where it all started…" Everil spoke softly and gulped, her own stomach twisting in protest to the offending odor. She was leading them cautiously down the rounded corridor, a hand on her weapon as they scanned the shadows for trouble.

"Nothing they were hoping to gain is worth what they did here..." Alistair uttered from behind her, grimacing in disgust.

A strange, blood-curdling roar drifted from somewhere ahead, immediately halting them in their tracks.

"What was that?" Morrigan asked hesitantly.

"Guess we'll have to go find out…" Everil resumed her steps, picking up the pace.

They crossed the distance to the next set of doors, approaching them cautiously before pushing them open. A wide room lay beyond, lit up by a glowing barrier that was off to one side. And they all paused at what they found inside the see-through cage, horror falling upon the features of the two Wardens and the old mage, while behind them, Morrigan folded her arms with only a raised eyebrow to show her interest.

Multiple Templars lay in a pile of flesh and warped metal inside the barrier, so torn they could not tell where one body ended and another began. A single knight was kneeling on the floor next to the mountain of bodies, rocking back and forth while repeating the Chant of Light between quivering breaths. He looked to be in his early twenties, with blood and gore smeared over his blonde hair and silver armor.

Everil slowly approached him, trying not to startle him. "Hey..."

His head shot up, but as soon as his terrified eyes saw her, he tightly closed them. "No…" he choked out, furiously shaking his head. "I won't fall for your tricks! You broke the others, but you will not break me!"

"Cullen?" Wynne called in a compassionate tone. "You poor boy... What have they done…?"

"Calm down. We're not here to hurt you," Everil quietly assured him.

"No! It won't work! Begone demon! Leave me be!" he yelled, pressing his forehead to his clasped hands. Then he glared at her once more, seeing her still standing there in front of him with that pitying expression. He held his head, frustration evident on his features. "This used to work before... Why are you still here!"

She sighed softly. "Because I'm not a demon... Your Knight-Commander sent me. I came to help restore the Circle."

"I... see..." He shakily rose to his feet, his demeanor still somewhat doubtful. "Knight-Commander... Greagoir?"

"Yes. He allowed us Wardens to seek out survivors and try to save you all."

Cullen swallowed bitterly, turning slightly towards the corpses, yet unable to fully look in their direction. "It's… It's too late for them..." His words came as a trembling whisper, tangible grief over his fair face. The bags under his blue eyes and his sickly complexion seemed to age him, an indication of the many horrors he witnessed and how much mental torture he endured.

"But it's not too late for you." Everil tried to offer him at least a sliver of hope. "How do we get you out of there?"

His haunted stare reverted to the Grey Warden, her words doing little to ease his pain. "The only way to dispel a barrier is to kill the caster... Uldred. He and his accomplices are at the top of those stairs. In the Harrowing chamber."

She glanced towards the steps a distance away. A light was flashing between the cracks of the gates to the chamber as the corruption covering the room and the hallway behind them seemed to crawl out from the edges. She glanced up at him. "Is the First Enchanter with them?"

"He is, yes... Along with other senior mages. But I don't know if they still live. They sound as if they're being tortured… or worse." He hugged himself, trying in vain to keep from quivering as he stared at the doors. "Maker... The screams coming from there…!"

"All right, we'll return for you shortly," Everil told the Templar, then looked over her shoulder to the others. "Let's hurry. We have to save the First Enchanter or—"

"Wait..." Cullen interjected, brow creased in consternation. "Y-You seek to save the mages?"

"We do," she answered.

"You can't!" His fist hit the barrier with a loud bang, drawing a surprised glare from her. "You have to kill every single mage in there!"

The Templar's reaction was expected, but still disturbing to her. As if the mages were nothing but monsters that needed to be slain. "No," she refused, unwilling to think as he did. "If some yet live I have to save them. I won't kill innocent people."

"Innocent? Heh… You don't know anything, do you?" He gripped at his hair and scratched his scalp as if spiders were crawling over him, speaking through gritted teeth. "Blood mages can control you… Their fingers slither into your mind and manipulate your thoughts as if you were nothing but a puppet! They can trick you into seeing whatever they want you to see! Into feeling things you'd never dare feel!" He blew a shuddering, broken breath. "They tore apart my friends one by one. Toyed with them. Tortured them and used them in sick, twisted games as I watched. I'm the only one left because somehow they couldn't break my will!"

He leaned closer, staring at her with crazed eyes. "All it takes is one… One blood mage to leave the tower and many more will die! You wouldn't be able to tell the maleficarum apart from the rest... The best way to make sure no blood mage escapes is to kill everyone in that room!"

"He holds a lot of hatred towards mages now…" Alistair said sadly. "He won't be able to think clearly for a while."

"I know what I'm talking about!" Cullen protested, desperately shifting between them. "Please just listen to me!"

"These mages have also suffered. If I were to listen to you, then I wouldn't be much better than those who killed your—"

"It's because of them I'm telling you this! You're about to risk letting a blood mage escape because of your misguided sympathy!"

"Which is my decision to make, not yours! And I will deal with the consequences if I must!"

"But—!"

"Come on. We've wasted enough time here," she told the others, whirling about and ignoring any further protests from the Templar. Hasty strides led her to the stairs while her party followed close behind.

"You'll regret this later!" Culled yelled from inside his prison, watching them disappear behind the doors. He clenched his teeth and hung his head with a miserable growl, fists trembling against the barrier.

.x.x.x.x.

A man's agonizing screams erupted from above the spiral stairs to the Harrowing chamber. Their hearts raced as they panted for breath, the spark of magic draining all warmth from the air as the brightness of the spells being cast lit up the entire area. The Grey Wardens drew their weapons the moment they reached the top, entering a massive room bordered by pillars and illuminated by the blue flames of torches. Mosaic windows let in some moonlight, the combination of colors casting their surroundings in an ominous hue.

They took tentative steps, eyes over the butchered bodies of the mages who now lay dead on the floor, a terrified expression permanently etched upon their faces. Their gaze then trailed along the blood-stained floors, seeing more bodies and more gore, until they landed on the man responsible for it all. An abomination slowly rose from the ground at his feet, electric power circling it as it focused its terrifying stare upon them.

Everil gritted her teeth, eyebrows meeting at the bridge of her nose. Its features were still morphing into a disfigured appearance as the demon took hold of his soul. Which meant that the creature was probably the mage who was screaming just moments ago.

"Ah, visitors! And Grey Wardens even... To what do I owe the pleasure?" Uldred greeted them, a wicked smirk over his aging face.

Scowling angrily, she looked to the handful of surviving mages who were tied together in a corner of the room. Crimson stained their sky blue robes and terror-filled faces, their bodies quivering as they pleadingly looked back at her. "You know, I was going to demand an explanation..." Everil said coolly, then pointed her sword at him. "...but I think I'll just kill you now."

Uldred cackled at her threat. "Come now... No need to be hasty. Why don't you put down the weapon and join in our festivities?" He gestured to the three abominations standing around him, their blank stares focused on her party. "I can make you quite powerful, even if you lack the magical talents of a mage."

"No thanks. Your little experiment ends here!" she replied, dropping into a fighting stance while those standing with her did the same.

"You think you can stop me?" He let out a slow, deep chuckle, then threw his head back as it turned into a maniacal laughter. Magic surged around his body, bursting from the ground beneath him. His hands reached for his balding head as he hunched over, the sound of bones cracking and muscles tearing joining with his shrill screams.

"You will regret not taking my offer!" he gurgled as he vomited blood onto the floor, his body shifting and twisting as he morphed into something else. "I will turn every mage in this room against you and smear the tower's floors with your blood!" His voice turned into a roar as scales sprouted from his skin, spreading over him as his face contorted into a vicious, animalistic snarl.

Everil's stare widened as she watched the man begin to grow in size. "Maker…"

The transforming Uldred screeched, his voice resonating over his captive mages and causing them all to scream in agony. They tried to move away from the maleficar but their bindings kept them in place, trapped, and within his reach. A strange, blue aura flowed from the ground around them, enveloping them as they squirmed.

"He's trying to force demons upon them!" Wynne said urgently, placing a hand on Everil's shoulder. "Give me the Litany! We must protect Irvin and the others until that monster lies dead!"

She nodded, grabbing the scroll from her bag and handing it to her. "Don't let the bastard notice you."

"Understood." Wynne ran to the back of the chamber, opening the scroll as she went.

Uldred's body grew four times his size, towering over them as the abominable demon inside him revealed itself in all of its terrifying glory. A reptilian head replaced the human, along with its broad shoulders, powerful arms, and muscular legs. It threw its head back and released a massive roar that rattled the windows. It trained its blood-red eyes upon them and flexed its clawed hands, taking a step as the floor quaked under its weight. The three abominations around it began to move along with it, following its command.

Pushing through the fear, Everil searched for obvious weaknesses, seeing only the dark grey scales reflecting all light in the room. The monster appeared to be built rock-solid, armored from head to toe. It would be difficult to pierce its skin with their blades. Her head snapped to their mage. "Morrigan, do you have a spell that can weaken armor?"

"I do. A powerful enough fire spell can easily erode its defenses," she replied, folding her arms while holding her staff. "However, 'twill take time to prime, and you will be hit by it should you get caught too close to the creature."

"Use it." Everil returned her determined glare to Uldred.

"Very well, Warden." Morrigan took a few steps back and slammed the tip of her staff on the ground. "Just be sure to keep it off of me, please?"

"Of course. We'll distract it while you cast." Everil prepared her weapons, glancing towards her fellow Warden. "Let's take out the small ones first, then move on to the big one."

"Got it." He gave her a firm nod and readied his blade and shield, eyes focused on his first target. "Ready?"

"Yes! Let's go!"

Bjorn barked as the three of them charged towards the approaching demon, the abominations much faster than their master due to its massive size. The Grey Wardens split up, each one taking on two of the enemies while the hound went for the third. Alistair ran in shield first as the abomination cast a fire spell. It bounced off his shield, the flames flowing around him as he cut through them, swinging and slicing its torso. It screeched and slashed with its claws, only to lose an arm when he chopped it off with another swing.

Movement caught the corner of his eye as Uldred's hand came to swat at him. Alistair rushed the abomination, running it through and knocking it onto its back. He landed on top of it, dodging the giant demon's strike in the process. It growled and then raised its arm for another attack. Alistair rolled, taking his sword with him as a giant fist hammered down, squashing the abomination's corpse into a paste and barely missing him.

Bjorn sidestepped out of a fireball's path, running at the corrupted mage with his full body weight. He slammed it down fast, chops closing on its neck with a vise grip, tearing out its trachea as it gurgled blood. Meanwhile, Everil slid on the floor, kicking the abomination's feet off the ground. She then whirled around and brought her dagger upon it, piercing through its head. She pushed herself up, looking over towards Alistair. He nodded from the other side of the massive creature, his eyes then shifting to it as he dodged another hit.

Her attention then quickly shifted to Morrigan, who was still standing with eyes closed as she gripped her staff. Everil then gazed towards Wynne and the other mages, seeing the old mage was locked in chanting while holding the Litany in both her hands.

We need more time… She glared at Uldred as it slowly turned to her, clawed feet dragging over the stone floor. The Warden bent her knees and charged with a cry, raising her sword. The monster swatted at her, and she went low, still running as she dodged it. Her blades quickly clashed against its legs, only to be deflected by its hard skin. She clicked her tongue and docked again as it tried to grab her. She could hear Alistair attacking from the other side, his sword clanking loudly against the monster's scales.

It lowered its reptilian head, snapping at her with its maws and forcing her to retreat several steps. Everil struck again, sparks flying with each hit she landed. Her hound came up, pouncing on its neck, only to fall back down on his legs as his teeth failed to penetrate its flesh.

Uldred slashed, trying to slice her with its claws as she swiftly avoided it. It began to cackle loudly, its voice coarse as gravel. "I know your plan, Warden!" It turned its head towards Morrigan, who continued to focus on the spell. "There is only one way to strip my armor."

She froze, suddenly noticing their current position and that of their mage. Uldred had gradually lured them away from Morrigan, leaving her wide open to an attack as magic sparked to life around the demon. It growled low in its throat, summoning its power as electricity popped and crackled through its body.

"Shit!" Everil made to run to their companion, only to be backhanded by the monster and sent bouncing off one of the columns. She landed roughly, grunting in pain as her weapons clattered over the ground beside her.

"Everil!" Alistair called, running towards her.

"Don't!" she barked at him, stopping him in his tracks while lifting her torso with shaking arms. "It wants Morrigan!"

His wide eyes snapped to the creature, watching it open its mouth, sparks materializing within it as it aimed towards the defenseless witch. Alistair cursed under his breath, kicking himself into motion and making a mad dash towards her. "Morrigan, look out!"

Upon hearing her name, she opened her eyes, her gaze landing on the reptile's form as it fired at her. She was rooted to the spot, maintaining her focus on casting the spell, intent on beating the monster to the punch. But someone's back blocked her view.

Alistair took the hit against his shield, the impact making his feet slide back. The electric current burned the metal, lighting it bright red, the heat seeping through to his gauntlet. Behind him, she finished casting and flames erupted around the demon, churning upwards like a raging inferno. Her hands moved in a circular motion, wrapping the flames into a tornado. As the twister of fire intensified, Uldred's armor began to peel off, the heat eating away at it as the smell of cooked flesh filled the air. A bead of sweat slid down the witch's brow as her mana was gradually drained by the spell. Her arms then spread out, dispelling the storm in one swift motion.

Plumes of smoke escaped the demon's nose as the flames died down. It fell heavily on its knees, growling low as its crimson glare remained on her. Morrigan lowered her hands, panting heavily as she and Alistair waited for it to fall dead. Its eyes narrowed at them, bolts of electricity crackling over its body as its jaws once again opened.

"Still alive?" Alistair stepped forth, ready to finish it when a crunching, wet sound reached their ears. Shock fell over the creature's face as it released a painful grunt. And then it fell forward with a mighty slam, revealing Everil's form as she stood atop it, both hands around her sword after having impaled the back of its head. Bjorn also emerged from around the corpse, panting heavily.

Her eyes then moved to her companions while she yanked the blade out. "Are you two all right?"

"Yeah. I got here just in time," Alistair replied, sending the witch a smug smirk. "Right Morrigan?"

She rolled her eyes. "Do not flatter yourself, Templar. I was handling myself just fine."

"Sure you were…"

Everil sighed and shook her head at them before climbing off her perch, landing near her panting hound. She sheathed her sword as Wynne approached their group, a bearded, old mage leaning against her with an arm over her shoulders.

She smiled weakly at the party as they came to a stop near them, glancing towards the old man with a weary smile. "Grey Wardens… this is our First Enchanter, Irvin.'

"A pleasure to meet you," Everil responded, reaching for a handshake while inwardly relieved to see he was still alive. The remaining mages were also just getting up to their feet, all safe in spite of their bloodied and beaten bodies.

He gently shook her hand and smiled weakly in return. "We cannot put into words how grateful we are. Without you, the Circle would have been lost."

"You are welcome. Though we're not finished yet. We still have to convince the Knight-Commander that the Circle has been restored or we'll all die when the Right of Annulment arrives."

The sage sighed tiredly. "Greagoir is not as unreasonable as he appears... Come. He will tell his men to stand down the moment he sees I'm alive." As they began to walk he grumbled, limping on his feet. "Ugh… Curse the one who decided the Circle be held in a tower."

.x.x.x.x.

The Templar reinforcements had just arrived by the time they returned to the first floor, all gathering outside in large numbers as they awaited their orders. Irvin had effortlessly convinced the Knight-Commander of the Circle's restoration, as well as of their victory against the maleficarum. Greagoir promptly allowed them out, relieved to see they'd survived the ordeal. Commands were given to the knights soon after. And the army of Templars originally summoned to kill every mage was now sent in to rescue survivors and eliminate any remaining threats.

The Grey Wardens stood by, covered in blood and sweat as the knights marched in perfect order into the dark corridors beyond. They gripped swords and shields as the metal of their armor clanked and chimed, their steps steady as a beating drum. Helmets hid their faces from view, concealing any fear they may have felt as they headed to battle against any blood mages and demons left standing inside the tower.

Everil observed them, seeing in them the true might of the Chantry's power. This was their army of faithful soldiers. Each of them willing to live and die to carry out their duties. Though, by Alistair's stories of his time in the order, they were treated as little more than tools to advance the Chantry's agenda. Trained swords meant to subjugate those who disagreed or went against their doctrine behind the pretense of protection.

Once the Templars were gone, Morrigan edged closer to her, speaking under her breath, "I believe I am finished with this place. I shall be waiting outside."

"Very well." The Warden glanced at her with arms crossed over her chest. "Take my hound with you. He's parched from all the fighting and needs a drink from the lake. Keep him company while I finish here."

"Sur—wait…" Morrigan blinked and arched an eyebrow at her. "Did you just ask me to babysit your drooling beast?"

"Yes, I did," Everil answered, grinning widely at her while reaching down to pet Bjorn's large head. "He's a good boy. He won't cause any trouble, I promise."

"Ugh, fine…" the witch huffed grumpily, somehow unable to decline the infuriating request as she turned on her heel. "Let's go, mongrel…"

Bjorn simply followed, completely ignoring her glare as he trotted beside her. Both Wardens watched the pair leave through the front gates, a small chuckle escaping Alistair. "Do you think she'll ever grow out of that bitchy attitude? Rhetorical question, of course. I doubt it very seriously."

Everil hopelessly shook her head at him.

An angry voice then drew their surprised stares. "These mages shouldn't be left alive! There could be maleficar amongst them," Cullen said to his superior, a haunted expression upon his features.

"Irvin has said the Circle is restored. I trust his judgment. There will be no more bloodshed," replied Greagoir, sternly regarding the younger man.

"How do you know he speaks the truth! Blood mages can show you whatever they want. He could be fooling you!"

"I am the Knight-Commander here, not you." Greagoir's sharp response left no room for argument as he called for another Templar to step closer. "Take him to the healer. He has seen enough today."

The man nodded, patting his disturbed comrade on the shoulder. Cullen shook his head at his commander, then sent a brief glance towards the approaching Grey Wardens before they headed for the door. "Nobody listens until it's too late…"

With a sigh, Greagoir turned his attention towards Everil. "You have proven yourself an ally of both the Circle of Magi and the Templars, and I now hold a personal debt to you. While Irvin and I don't always see eye to eye, he is a good friend to me. I thank you both for all you did for us today."

She gave him a solemn nod. "Of course. We couldn't just stand idly by and allow Uldred to succeed. However, while I know you have just endured a terrible attack, we still need help against the Blight. Would you be able to assist?"

"Unfortunately, I cannot spare any men at this time. But speak to the First Enchanter, he will be the one to provide you with the aid you seek." He gestured to the old man, who was standing with Wynne a distance away, by the entrance to the tower.
"Got it," Everil replied, extending her hand. "It was a pleasure. Thank you for allowing us to help."

He shook her forearm firmly, a small smile tugging at a corner of his lips. "The pleasure was mine, Grey Wardens."

She and Alistair then headed towards the two mages near the door. "I said I'm all right, girl," Irvin grumbled, trying to gently push Wynne's hands away.

She gave him a disapproving look, glaring at him as if he were a fuzzing child. "You look as if someone has used you as a punching dummy, Irvin."

"So what if I do? I am not as fragile as I appear to be," he countered stubbornly.

The Wardens stopped by the pair, drawing their attention as Wynne lowered her bloodied rag.

Irvin gazed their way, a sullen expression replacing his prior irritation. "I heard about what happened in Ostagar from Wynne when she returned. I am... deeply saddened for Duncan. You have my condolences."

"Thank you…" Alistair replied quietly. "I know he occasionally visited the Circle."

"Yes. He was one of the few who held mages in high regard in spite of our... image," Irvin sighed and offered them a grateful smile. "It brings me relief to know there are still Grey Wardens in Ferelden. Especially now."

"Well... sort of. There's only two of us left."

"Which is what brought us here," Everil added, drawing the sage's gaze. "We hate to ask in such an inopportune time, but we need help from the mages against the Blight."

He nodded firmly, clasping his hands behind his back. "While the Circle may be in disarray and many of us perished, there will be no safe place for our survivors if the Blight engulfs all of Ferelden. You will have our aid in the fight against the darkspawn."

"Thank you…" Everil breathed with relief. They finally secured one of their allies, which was a great step in the right direction. But there was no time for a victory dance. There was much work left to do. "There is... something else we need help with at this time, however. Can you send a group of mages and large amount of lyrium to Redcliffe Castle?"

"I could… May I ask why?" Irvin lifted an inquisitive brow.

She promptly elaborated. "Arl Eamon's only son has been possessed by a powerful demon. The creature holds the village captive and has managed to kill many innocents in the process. We managed to immobilize the boy for a time, but we need your help to defeat the creature and save what's left of Redcliffe without killing him."

"I see…" Irvin crossed his arms and ran a wrinkled hand down his long, gray beard. "With lyrium and mages we can enter the Fade and eliminate the demon from within... Yes, yes… That would work. I will send the mages you need and I will be among them."

"I'll come along, as well. It's the least I can do for all your aid," Wynne said beside him.

Everil smiled at them. "Thank you both."

Irvin gave a sharp nod. "I will organize what we need and head out as soon as possible. You can meet us at Redcliffe Castle."

"Very well. Be safe on your way there," she said and then turned to Alistair before heading out, leaving the mages to begin preparations.