Chapter 51: The Tower
The journey across the lake was both cold and tiresome.
It was obvious that Carrol knew almost nothing about how to control the ferry, and with Leliana distracting him with her 'stories' well it did not make for an easy trip across.
Well, at least she had stopped him from frying the annoyance; it would likely not have gone well for them if Alim had to explain to Greagoir why he had killed Carrol.
Of course, the fact that it was Carrol, Greagoir might have honored him for the act.
Alim repressed a chuckle.
At least they had found their way across the lake.
As they drew closer, the elf began to sense the wrongness about the place. He could sense strange magical forces in play around the island, not normal ones either.
The elf shivered, it seemed more and more likely that this would not be a simple discussion between Irving, Greagoir, and himself.
Alim sighed.
Duncan had it so much easier.
Surprisingly, Carrol had managed to maneuver the ferry into the underground caves where the tower's supplies were delivered.
The warden looked back at his companions, a few of them looked a little green, Seri and Theron especially, Carrol had not been the best of guides to bring them here, but at least they had made it.
Now, the real work could begin.
IOI
Morrigan sniffed as the group made their way up into the tower. She had never had any desire to see this place herself.
Mages chaining themselves up like cattle, they allowed themselves to be treated like lambs to the slaughter.
She held little respect for any of them.
Alim seemed to be the only circle mage that she could say she respected, and he of course had been freed by the Grey Wardens. She could not imagine the elf chained up in here by the chantry's rules.
He embraced his freedom far too much to live like that.
They climbed the steps that led up to the main hall. The Templar fool had told them that the tower was in trouble.
It seemed that he shared her Alistair's gift for the understatement.
The tower's main hall was in chaos. Templars ran back and forth shouting reports to one another. It a corner several injured Templars were being cared for by their fellows. They seemed covered by savage cuts and burns.
Morrigan sneered.
She hoped the Alim would not expect her to try and heal them. These men savored imprisoning mages.
Let them suffer, that is what she thought.
She glanced over at Alistair, who gave her a shy nod. She could not help but feel…warmth under his regard.
She dismissed such thoughts, Alistair was…entertaining, and he pleased her in bed.
That was all it would ever be.
The plan took precedence; she would prove herself to her mother.
She was a worthy successor to her power.
The plan was proceeding perfectly, when the time was right, Alistair would give her exactly what she needed, and she would be able to return to her Mother in victory. Success here would lead her mother to teach her even greater secrets of magic.
Provided she did not simply take them from Mother's old grimoire.
The book was here, she could sense, almost taste the power locked in its pages.
Soon it would be in her hands.
She could tolerate the cattle and the zealots if such power was in reach.
She could endure it all.
It was simply a matter of time.
IOI
Alim's ears twitched with concern.
Never had he seen the Templars act such way before.
He looked around the chamber, trying to find a Knight-Lieutenant, or perhaps Greagoir himself.
The great door leading to the rest of the tower had been barred, and five Templars stood facing it, their weapons at the ready.
Not good, Alim thought.
Not good at all.
Alistair approached his fellow warden.
"They barred the doors," he said, "Are they trying to keep something out…or in?"
Alim rolled his eyes.
General Obvious strikes again!
Alim could not remember such an occurrence during his time in the tower. Whatever had happened, it must have been pretty bad.
Bad for both the mages and Ferelden, the mages were needed to fight the Blight!
"I want reports made every hour," a cold voice demanded, breaking through the cacophony. "Nothing comes through that door without my say so, is that clear?"
A chorus of 'yes ser' came from several knights as they went about their duties.
The leader turned, he seemed older than Alim had remembered, still strong but his eyes were more lined, and his hair grayer.
They had found Knight-Commander Greagoir.
"Now we wait, and pray," the Templar said to no one at all.
Alim straightened his robes and marched right up to the man.
Respectful, he thought, be respectful.
HE managed a weak smile.
"Hello Knight Commander," he said conversationally, "It has been a while hasn't it?"
Greagoir turned; he gave Alim a cold stare.
"You," he said coldly.
"Me," Alim shrugged grinning.
The Knight Commander snorted.
"So Irving's little elf has returned to the Tower, and look at you, a proper Grey Warden now."
Alim's ears lowered slightly, Greagoir knew how to push his buttons. The 'little' comment was designed to put him off guard.
The elf ignored it.
"We heard about Ostagar," Greagoir continued, "It pleases me to see that you survived."
"Really," Alim said dryly, "I cannot imagine that you would be happy to see me. I figured you would have thrown a party when you heard about my death."
"Perhaps I would have," the Templar said dryly.
"Ancestors," Seri whispered, "lot of hostility in this room."
Greagoir's eyes turned cold.
"What brings you back here?" the Commander ordered.
"The Blight," Alim began, "I need…"
"I grow weary of the Grey Wardens' need for men to fight the darkspawn. Alas, it is your right. You will find no men here Warden. The Templars can spare no men, and the mages are…indisposed. The situation is most dire."
"So I gather," Alim said dryly, "Guess your men have not been doing their job again huh?
Greagoir glared at him, he still did not like dealing with Alim's sass.
"I have no time for you now Surana," the Templar growled, "What is happening here now is worse than what occurred with you and Jowan."
At the mention of his old friend, Alim paused.
"Have you found him yet?"
How could we with his phylactery destroyed?" Greagoir growled. "Another crime to lie at your feet, we were too lenient with your kind, I see that now."
Alim's ears flattened in anger.
"Lenient?" he snarled, "You were too lenient?!"
"Enough," Alistair said, stopping their argument before it went any farther. He turned to the Knight-Commander.
"The Grey Wardens stand ready to assist you ser," he said, "But we need to know what is going on."
Greagoir looked at Alistair for the first time, a look of…recognition passed across his face.
"You were a Templar were you not?"
"I trained as a brother," Alistair replied, "I was recruited into the Grey Wardens a little over a year ago."
Greagoir nodded, seeing a fellow Templar seemed to pacify him a bit.
"The Tower is no longer under our control," he informed them, "Abominations and demons now stalk the halls."
Alim's eyes widened in horror, sweet Maker no!
"How did this happen?" he asked.
"We don't know," Greagoir admitted, "The demons fell upon us before we had a chance to organize. Several of my men were ensorcelled before we had a chance to fight back. I…I killed some of them myself, there was no other choice, we were outnumbered. I ordered my men to flee."
"Tis not surprising that you would flee from an enemy that is stronger than you," Morrigan sneered, "Templars prefer their enemies weaker than themselves."
The Knight-Commander glared at the witch.
"And who are you?" he growled.
"An ally," Alistair said stepping in front of her, "A willing ally against the blight."
"Interesting," Greagoir responded.
Morrigan gave him her most acidic smile.
"How do you intend to deal with this situation?" Alim asked, trying to get Greagoir's focus off of Morrigan.
They had no time for such foolishness.
"I have sent for reinforcements," the Templar said, "And I have asked the Grand Cleric to grant the Rite of Annulment."
Alim's eyes widened again.
"You…you can't annul the entire circle!" Alim gasped, "There are still likely innocent mages in there! Your own men as well, do you wish them dead too?"
"I do not take this action lightly," Greagoir snarled back, "Those men knew the risk, and as for the mages. I'm thinking about the safety of Ferelden. Everything within the tower must be destroyed, so it can be made safe again."
Alim turned pale.
The Rite of Annulment was feared by every mage. A Templar that had been granted it had the right to kill every mage on the premises.
Alim could not allow that, he still knew people here, still had people here that he called friends.
"When did you send for the rite?" he asked.
"Days ago," Greagoir sighed, "And that worries me, has the chantry been caught up in the civil war? Do they even know that we are under siege? I cannot say for certain."
Alim's ears twitched nervously, he was thinking.
They had one chance; he did not like it, but…
He turned to Greagoir.
"You don't need to wait," he said, "My allies and I will cleanse the tower for you."
"What?!" Morrigan gasped.
Greagoir gave him a suspicious look.
"You would kill off your own kind, for us?"
"I will investigate," Alim clarified, "I will slay any abominations we face, and save any survivors, lead them to safety."
"And if you find no one untainted by the demons?" Greagoir asked.
"I said we would deal with them," Alim repeated.
The Knight-Commander considered his offer, finally he shook his head.
"An abomination is a force to be reckoned with, and you will be facing more than one."
Alim snorted.
"I kill darkspawn for a living now Greagoir. I can handle Abominations."
The Templar scoffed.
"You always were an arrogant little thing Surana," he said, "But, I shall let you try. Be warned, I will only accept the First Enchanter's word that everything is safe. If Irving has fallen…then the circle must be destroyed for the good of everyone.
"Alim did not like it, but it seemed that they had little choice.
"Agreed," Alim said, "But I still will require aid to fight the darkspawn. The Archdemon is still out there."
"I would owe you much if you do this for us," Greagoir said, "Enough to pledge the chantry's Templars to your cause. It the circle is destroyed we will be free to aid you, destroying darkspawn is a worthy goal."
Alim did not like this; he did not like this one bit, but…if there were no mages left here. He still needed aid. The Templars would be useful in dealing with darkspawn emissaries, and their numbers would swell the ranks. Plus, it would give chantry justification against the Blight, something the wardens desperately needed right now.
The chantry could help clear the wardens of the outlaw status that Loghain had proclaimed upon them.
It was not a good situation, none of this was, but it was needed.
Alim did something he never thought he would ever do in his life.
He shook Greagoir's hand.
"Morrigan was glaring at him, not that he blamed her. Theron did not look very happy with it either. The Dalish and the chantry had a long and bloody history.
Sereda seemed pragmatic about it; trust a dwarf to see opportunity in trouble. Zev shrugged; clearly he had no moral qualms about killing.
Alistair and Leliana both gave him hopeful looks. They knew what Greagoir had asked of the elf, and they likely knew what doing this would do to him.
Plus, both had been trained by the chantry, they knew that abominations could not be allowed to escape the tower.
Ferelden had enough to worry about right now with the Blight and a civil war; they did not need to add a demon invasion on top of it.
Alim looked at Leliana. She gave him a curt nod. She drew up alongside him as they made for the great doors.
Her hand drifted to his, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Alim smiled at her, grateful for her affection and support.
The Templars opened the doors; they creaked loudly, like the doors in a ghost story.
Alim blinked at the darkened corridor, the torches were out, and the sunlight filtering in from outside was muted.
There was no sound, the tower sounded like a grave.
The elf pushed back such thoughts, if he could walk into a werewolf infested ruin and the deep roads, he would not fear the tower.
Full of Abominations or not, he would show no fear.
The Templars closed the doors behind them; the last sight the elf saw was a knight lieutenant shaking his head at their foolishness.
The elf found himself hoping the man was wrong.
The group drew their weapons; slowly they advanced down the corridor, ignoring the bodies that lay scattered on the floor around them.
Once more into dark places, Alim thought.
He looked down at Bandit who whimpered at his side.
He gave the dog a reassuring look.
They were getting too old for this shit.
Next Chapter: Wynne and Amell