Cassandra led their small group through the Hinterlands, listening idly as Lady Vivienne instructed Finley on the different customs that Circle mages were more acquainted with. While the First Enchanter was hardly pleased with the notion of going to speak with Grand Enchanter Fiona, she had resigned herself to the fact that she had indeed promised her aid.
She and Finley were discussing small slights that Circle mages did when they weren't impressed with one another, with Warden Blackwall following along beside Finley, listening patiently. Lady Vivienne had already made several quips toward him, showing her obvious distaste in what she presumed to be a waste of space.
Listening to how quick she was to berate the man, Cassandra had rather expected there to be a falling out betwixt Herald and First Enchanter. However, Finley had simply requested they not bother one another—a request the warden had quickly agreed to, whilst Lady Vivienne had merely turned her gaze elsewhere, assuring Finley had she had no intention of wasting energy on something so far beneath her.
Somehow, that had been enough.
While Cassandra was not thrilled to be heading to Redcliffe, she couldn't help but feel that neither was Finley. The mage seemed to be getting more and more skittish the closer they drew to the town. The rest of their party was picking up on it, and Cassandra had been forced to quell more than a few whispered doubts with a harsh look back.
She recognized a few of their party, including two of the templars Finley had recruited—the two who had come from Val Royeaux to talk sense into their brothers and sister in arms. Ser Yorric and Ser Rodrin. They seemed like a decent sort, though the former kept watching Cassandra. She'd look back, meet his gaze, and he'd give her a warm smile and look ready to break out into conversation.
There was a bit much to do at the moment for them to be allowing for such casual interactions…or so she kept telling herself. Especially considering how the way he watched her made her heart miss a beat every so often.
Hardly professional.
In truth, it wasn't like they were doing much other than walking forward. That didn't require nearly the concentration that she would have liked or needed to keep a faint flush from flooding her cheeks.
"Once we arrive at Redcliffe," Ser Yorric's voice came from right beside Cassandra, and she frowned. As she turned to eye him, he was still talking his eyes sparkling with some internal brilliance that she both wanted to know better and wanted to keep at bay, "Would you like Rodrin and I to wait outside the town? I realize we were brought along for a reason, but it occurs to me that having templars walk into a town run by mages may not be the brightest idea…for any party involved."
"The mages will need to understand that, while we are not allied with the Order itself, we do have templars in our midst. If they cannot accept working with so few, then it will likely go poorly regardless."
"So we're a quiet reminder that everyone must play nice," Ser Yorric nodded. "I was wondering."
"Are you unwilling to play your part?"
The grin that he gave her was…unexpected. "My lady seeker, I would almost think you are trying to get rid of me." His armor clinked as they walked along, a light wind tugging at his loose hair, the sun highlighting his swarthy complexion with warm undertones. "I've every intention of seeing this world saved, just as much as you."
Cassandra let out a dry laugh. "Is that so?"
"It is."
"Then I suppose it was fortunate that someone so chivalrous showed up on our stoop."
"You say that like you are not pleased, but I think you are," Ser Yorric offered, a rather cocky grin in place when Cassandra rolled her eyes toward him. As she arched one of her eyebrows, he shrugged a little. "I'm always happy to assist a lovely lady. Even if she is a force that doesn't seem to need it."
"I assure you, the Herald needs all the help she can get." Cassandra sighed.
At that, Ser Yorric straightened up, mildly baffled at her response. Even as Cassandra's brow dipped down, realizing that she must have missed something—though she couldn't for the life of her fathom what—she felt a hand on her arm.
Finley had stepped up to her other side, gaze scanning their surroundings as she pulled the seeker to a stop. The echoes of magic in her eyes seemed a bit brighter and sharper than usual as she frowned. "Someone is watching me."
"Watching you?" Ser Yorric clarified, brow pinching together. He'd stopped a few paces ahead of Cassandra.
Finley's gaze darted toward him, flickering with annoyance before she looked back at Cassandra. "I can't tell the direction. Usually, I can." She hesitated. "And the glare's stronger…like with that red lyrium templar."
That made Cassandra turn to face Finley fully. Despite not quite understanding what the Herald was talking about, she'd gathered the gist of it. "You think there are more infected templars out here? Now?"
Before Finley could reply, her eyes widened, and her entire body went stiff. Maker's Breath, for a time it seemed as though she wasn't even breathing.
All at once, magic was in the air.
Both Finley and Lady Vivienne were casting shields across the party, as arrows rained down, some made with what looked to be shards of red lyrium as the tips.
There was a small cliff just south of them, and Cassandra quickly called for them to group up there. They would defend with their backs to the cliff face, to ensure that no one could sneak up on them.
As their party started toward the cliff, something lumbered out of the woods toward them, attempting to cut them off. It made more than a few of them stumble to a halt. Despite wearing what looked to be pieces of a templar uniform, whatever that beast was could not have been a man. It was all red, sharp shards protruding from hard, rock-like skin as it towered up several feet taller than most qunari. There was a glow about it as well, sickening and twisted.
The creature let out a roar as it saw their casters, picking up its pace until it was in a proper charge.
Lady Vivienne attempted to cast a frost spell upon the monster, only for it to do something…it had almost sounded like a templar interrupt, but it hadn't been. The creature broke the spell before it could even fully form, seemingly encouraged by its ability.
Warden Blackwall moved against it first, swinging around behind it and then angling so that he could throw most of his weight behind his shield and use the creature's own momentum to topple it over. Though his tactic worked, the monster was back on its feet, in a low crouch, far too quickly.
As it shot toward the warden, distracted at least from their mages, arrows plinked into its body. Though a few embedded themselves in the glowing lyrium protruding from it, most of the arrows barely even scuffed the creature.
Cassandra and Ser Yorric charged the beast next, positioning themselves so that no matter which way it tried to go, there was someone blocking its path. Granted, all of them were dwarfed compared to the lumbering behemoth, but that hardly mattered.
As they sought out weak points in the lyrium and armor, striking as quickly and forcefully as they could, Cassandra dared a glance around to see where the rest of their party had gotten to. Most of their people had made it to the cliffs, and their archers were busily picking off the rest of their enemies. The few still scattered through the field were fending off…
Maker, they were definitely templars.
They weren't as twisted as the one Cassandra had engaged, but they were growing lyrium from their bodies, and many sported red veins that covered their skin like a sickly web.
Lady Vivienne managed to freeze one in place and break him with her staff before he could interrupt her spell.
Even as Cassandra wondered if they should keep the behemoth at bay or try to regroup with the rest of their party, the creature's twisted, club like fist slammed into Cassandra's shoulder and sent her flying into the dirt. She heard a few people call out to her, but she managed to roll to the side before it could smash its fist down. She felt that familiar, warm tingling of magic that came with Finley's shields as she rolled to her feet, her shoulder already feeling like it was mending back together.
The creature had used too much force when it had attacked, and its arm was stuck in the earth. As it roared, trying desperately to free itself, Ser Yorric took advantage of the situation to leap onto its back and, with a swift motion, plunged his sword into the back of the creature's neck. He abandoned his sword as he dodged back, covering his face before the tainted blood could spurt across him.
The beast shuttered once and then finally slumped over.
The three of who had been fighting the behemoth didn't give themselves time to pause. Instead, they rushed toward the cliff to regroup. Ser Yorric picked up a fallen blade so that he could still join the fray. Cassandra beheaded a lankier, still human-looking templar who had tackled Lady Vivienne to the ground.
About the same time, ice shards struck through the man's torso. Lady Vivienne was on her feet even as Cassandra shoved the corpse away from her, standing straight and proud, a single brow arched. "Darling, you needn't worry over me. Keep them off…"
Her voice cut short as she looked around. Then, the First Enchanter's brow dipped down, anger overtaking her. Two more corrupted templars fell to ice.
Warden Blackwall threw his sword, catching the last of the archers who had been attempting to flee back into the safety of the woods.
The rest of them stood there, catching their breath, looking around at the bodies that littered the forest floor. Of their sixteen, they'd lost five.
Considering the odds and the numbers they'd been against, Cassandra considered that rather good. Ser Rodrin stood near a few of the archers, one of his arms hanging limp at his side. He nodded toward her, though it was Lady Vivienne who interrupted them before anyone could comment that they'd been lucky.
"What happened to Herald Finley?"
...-...
A/N: Thank you to creepypasta-queen- for beta reading, and to everyone who reads, favorites, follows, and comments!