Chapter 16: The Wolfs' Lair
The werewolves growled in fury at the approaching outsiders, it was all Swiftrunner could do to keep them from attacking right then.
No, caution was needed now, the Lady needed to be defended.
"The forest has not been vigilant enough," the alpha wolf growled.
"That is what you get for trusting a forest," Alim quipped acidicly.
Swiftrunner snarled.
"You are stronger than we had anticipated, but you do not belong here outsider. LEAVE THIS PLACE!"
"Have Witherfang come out and I will," the elven mage offered.
"We will defend Witherfang with our lives," the wolf growled.
"So be it," Alim said in a low dangerous voice.
The fight was quick; Alim had no intention of wasting any more time here. The Dalish hunters back at the camp were suffering, possibly even turning.
They needed to end this now.
Several wolves fell, one actually surrendered, Alistair had it pinned beneath his blade. Swiftrunner snarled impotently, surrounded by Alim, Sten, Bellethiel, and Bandit.
Alim let the lightning flow into his fingers, one good jolt and Swiftrunner would cease to be a problem.
He never saw the white wolf until it was too late.
Witherfang leapt out at the mage, the shock of seeing it actually pushed him back. The white wolf barked and snarled. It threw back its head and howled a sound so loud that the wardens and their companions had to cover their ears.
Swiftrunner and the surviving werewolves took full advantage of the distraction. They made for the ruins that were their lair, Witherfang bounded after them.
"We have been invaded," Swiftrunner informed the gatekeeper as he passed by.
The other wolf growled, "We fall back then, fall back to the sanctuary, protect the Lady!"
The wolves followed after Swiftrunner. The ruins were dangerous; hopefully they would kill the outsiders. If not the blood of many of their kind would be shed this day.
The Lady would mourn, but her defense was imperative, if she was lost, the werewolves might once again slip into mindlessness.
Swiftrunner would not allow that to happen.
IOI
Alistair held the wolf that had surrendered at sword point, the creature whimpered pathetically. He warned himself not to get overconfident, one bite and he would join these creatures in their curse. He would not go down that road if he could help it.
"Please," the werewolf growled, "I…am not the mindless beast I appear to be."
"You certainly look like one of your kind," Alim said dryly.
"I…I am one of the cursed," the creature growled, "but it was not always so…argh...the pain it burns in my blood!"
"We should end this pathetic wretch's life," Morrigan offered, "Tis a mercy at this point."
"It is not what you think…Witherfang…the Keeper…there is more going on than you know," the werewolf spat.
"What do you know about the Keeper," Bellethiel said hotly, "You attacked us, and you infected us with this foul disease. How dare you claim that we don't know what is going on?"
"I was a victim in that attack da'len," the wolf retorted, "I know more about this disease now than you."
Bellethiel froze, something in the voice, it triggered a memory.
Oh Creators…NO!
"Danyla" the huntress asked.
The wolf nodded.
Bellethiel gasped; no…it could not be…the poor woman!
"So you were one of the Dalish," Alim said grimly, "You…you are Athras's wife."
"You…you know my mate?" the wolf asked.
"Yes," Alim replied.
The wolf whimpered, the agony in her voice was clear, "He…he is a good man, I….I should have died. I don't want him to suffer thinking of me!"
"Danyla no," Bellethiel cried out, "We will kill Witherfang; we can use his heart to save you, save all the clan!"
"It…it is too late for me Da'len," the wolf whimpered, "Please end my pain, end it quickly!"
Alim frowned, he felt pity for the poor woman, but…could he really just strike her down like this. It would be a mercy he knew…but still.
Could he do it? Could he kill this poor woman in front of Belle?
"The poor woman," Leliana said behind them.
"We…we shouldn't let her suffer," Bellethiel murmured, the huntress was almost in tears.
"I…I can do it," Leliana offered.
Alim gave her a surprised look, he never would have expected a sister to step up and offer to…
"Please," the wolf moaned, "End it for me! End it quickly!
Alim nodded, Bellethiel leaned against his shoulder, she understood, but…she could not watch.
Leliana sighed; it was not the first time she had killed. She had tried not to feel anything regarding those deaths, but this…this was different.
This was a mercy.
She whispered a quick prayer to the Maker, asking that he show kindness on this poor woman's soul. She also asked that if the elven gods still listened to their people's prayers, they would show mercy.
Leliana drew her dagger.
The werewolf gave her a look of gratitude.
"Gods bless you," she whimpered.
Leliana slashed the wolf's throat; she let only a weak sigh and fell still.
Leliana stood there, her hand shaking, shame warred with her compassion. Was there really no way to save the poor woman?
She reached down and retrieved a scarf that the werewolf had had wrapped around her wrist. They…they would return it to the poor woman's husband, so that he could hopefully find some closure.
Alim came up to her, she looked shyly at him, he…he seemed confused, it was odd, typically when the elven warden looked at her it was with either disdain or anger.
"Thank you…Leliana," he said quietly.
The sister was surprised, this was the first time the warden had ever used her name.
"We…we should be going," the sister offered, "We still need to find this Witherfang, the Dalish are depending on us.
Alim nodded; yes…they had wasted enough time.
It was time to go and end this.
IOI
The ruins were unlike anything that Alim had ever seen. High arched ceilings with great trees serving as pillars. The place practically hummed with the magic of the fade, the veil was so thin here. A sense of malice still hung over these ruins.
Something very bad had happened here once.
They pursued a group of werewolves down a long stairway, but the creatures managed to slam the door before the wardens could reach it.
The door was effectively barricaded, a shimmering magical shield sprung up before it.
It seemed that the werewolves did not want any visitors.
Alim cursed under his breath.
There were other passage ways here; hopefully one of the m would lead into the wolves' lair.
The journey however was not easy. Spirits roamed free here possessing the skeletons of invaders past. Almost every room seemed to lead to a new battle.
Then…there were the spiders, the creatures were massive, as big as Bandit and twice as wide. They viewed the wardens and their allies as food.
It was up to Alim and the others to correct them.
Still…Alim could not shake the feeling that he was being called, something here was begging for help, it was a stirring in his blood unlike anything he had ever known before.
He followed that call; occasionally the sister had to stop him from triggering one ancient trap or another. Again the woman seemed bound and determined to prove her worth. Alim was not sure why she was trying so hard. She was already part of the group; there was no reason to continue to push herself.
The call led Alim to small chamber in the ruins lower level, once again they were assaulted by undead, and once again they dealt with the creatures.
Alim followed the pulling at his senses. It led to an old skeleton, not reanimated like the others. The bones were still clad in a suit of beautiful green and black armor, iron bark polished and dyed in a way that no other craftsman in Thedas could duplicate. Alim reached down two things caught his attention, the first was a very old phylactery, and the other was a sword.
It was beautiful, a Dalish Dar'missan long sword, runes blazed along the flat part of the blade, the grip was a blend of silverite and iron bark.
Alim picked it up, it fit his hand perfectly, at his touch lightning crackled to life, the blade sparked in the darkness.
He was no swordsman, but even he found it hard to belief that such a weapon had just been forgotten here. It seemed…it felt like it had been waiting for him.
Bellethiel came up behind him, she looked over his shoulder, reading the elvish inscribed on the blade.
"This is spellbinder," she offered.
"It is beautiful,' he said with awe, "I can feel it responding to my magic."
"Once all elvhen had the gift," Bellethiel sighed, "But like so much else…it was lost, our…our people are but a shadow of their former selves Alim."
Alim glanced down at the phylactery, he took it into his hand, it looked like…
The world fell away.
IOI
The stormbreaker ran.
The enemy had broken through the gates! His brothers and sisters called down the lightning and the rain on the invaders but it was no use! Too many had fallen, far too many, the invaders had come to kill all who had the gift, they sought to wipe out every stormbreaker in the elvhen kingdom.
It would end here! The enemy would wipe them out!
No…he would not allow it! He was a stormbreaker, and he was an arcane warrior, he would not die like this.
The arcane warrior pulled a phylactery from his belt, he needed to survive, someone had to let the rest of their people know what had happened here. That the great enemy had come.
Someone had to live to tell the tale.
The stormbreaker began the chant. HE felt everything he was pass into the crystal, his training, his abilities everything. Hopefully one of his fellow stormbreakers would survive the battle, they would return and find him, with luck his people would find the phylactery and restore him to his body. The people needed to know, the enemy had to be stopped!
He felt himself path into the crystal, he began the call, only another of his talent would sense it, only another who wielded the lighting and the rain.
Another stormbreaker would come.
Years passed, then decades, then centuries, the stormbreaker had gone mad inside the phylactery, and now another had finally come.
It had been too long, far too long! His body was dust; all he wanted …all he craved now was a release. He remembered the altar, if the phylactery was placed upon it, he would finally find the peace of oblivion!
The stormbreaker that had found him was young; he knew nothing of his powers. The ancient one offered to give him this knowledge, the knowledge of their people. All he asked was for an end; the young one had to let him pass over into the beyond, to be free of the loneliness that had plagued him these many centuries.
The young one agreed.
The ancient did as he promised; he let everything that he had been flow into the young stormbreaker's mind. The spells, the meditations, the sword training…everything, the ancient warrior found that he was pleased. The enemy had failed, they had not exterminated the stormbreakers, at least one still lived.
The ancient took comfort in that.
He felt the young one rest the phylactery on the altar; he felt the magic shatter the ancient vessel.
The spirit could not help but feel relief.
Blissful oblivion…it had been so long awaited! It was a welcome relief.
IOI
Alim gasped. He staggered nearly falling over, he…he had never experienced anything like that before.
Alistair and Bellethiel were at his side, both looked worried.
"Lim are you alright!" Alistair shouted.
The elf nodded, he felt…wow…he understood now.
He was a stormbreaker.
"Emma lath?" Bellethiel asked, "Are you well?"
Wait he understood that! My love, Belle had called him her love! Alim blushed. It seemed that the old one had imparted more than just his skills as an arcane warrior and a stormbreaker.
Alim felt overwhelmed, he…he had always assumed he was some kind of freak! To know that he was more…that he was part of something that had been around when the elves had been at the heights of their power.
He felt…he felt chosen.
"I am fine Alistair," he finally answered, he smiled warmly at Belle, "Someone needed my help; he said glancing back at the shattered phylactery.
"Are you sure you are alright?" the huntress asked.
Alim smiled, he…he never felt better.
He lightly kissed Belle on the lips.
"We need to go," he said, our people still need us."
IOI
The ruin was a maze, the wardens and their allies found many hidden rooms and chambers, undead continued to harass them, along with the spiders, they even came across a small dragon. That had been a tough fight, Alistair had been shocked to see Alim draw the sword he had found, the elf was clearly no swordsman, his movements were clumsy, he lacked the training needed to be lethal with a blade.
Alistair could help with that if Lim let him.
Alim led the way, it almost seemed that he knew where he was going now, whatever was in that phylactery had affected him greatly, according to him there was a pool on the lower level that opened into the area that the werewolves were using for their sanctum.
Alistair hoped that knowledge was all that… thing had given the elf, as a Templar he had been trained not to trust magic. What if the elven spirit within that phylactery was trying to possess his friend?
How would Alistair even begin to counter such a thing?
Alim led them to the pool, it was low enough so everyone could breath as they made their way into the next room. The water came up to Sten's chin, which meant that there was plenty of breathing room for the others. The Qunari did not seem happy about going into the pool but he obeyed.
Everyone seemed pleased when they reached the other side.
Alim had both his weapons out, staff in one hand, sword in the other. He could smell the werewolves down here, that harsh animal smell that all beasts' dens possessed.
They were attacked before they even left the main room.
A group of werewolves had been hiding in the shadows here. Alim and Morrigan met them with fire and lightning while the others met them with arrows and steel.
Werewolf reinforcements arrived.
Alim growled he had had enough of the beasts; he summoned a wind throwing them against the wall hard enough to break bones. The creatures had no choice but to fall back.
Alim grinned fiercely; the power that the ancient stormbreaker had given him was amazing!
"ALIM!"
Leliana's panicked voice caused him to turn; the sister's eyes were wide with panic.
Alim did not understand, they had pushed the beasts back why was…
"Emma…lath?"
Alim's eyes widened, he ran to Leliana's side, Bellethiel lay at her feet, she was clutching a wound in her side, one of the werewolves had viciously scratched her, but that wasn't the worst of it.
The beast had bitten her throat, she coughed weakly, Leliana had bound the wound, but it would not matter, even if the neck wound healed.
Alim felt cold terror in the pit of his stomach.
No! He would not have it! They were so close now; they would find Witherfang and rip out his beating heart!
Alim would not let Belle die, or become one of these things.
He would find Witherfang and Maker help anyone who stood in his way.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know spellbinder was not in the ruin in game, but it works great as a plot device here don't you think. More on Alim's journey soon. See you all soon.