Chapter 56) Shambling Corpses
Cleon POV
"Why are they moving?" I asked, glancing up at Zaphikel. We had been hunting, but he'd suddenly pulled me up into the trees. For good reason. The dead were walking. Literally. "Dead shouldn't move."
"Technically, they're not," Zaphikel explained. "You have a demon manipulating them, like a doll."
"Why would a demon do that?"
"Your father once taught me it was because demons cannot distinguish between the dead or living." He absently ruffled my hair. "Come, we must report this back. They are quite dangerous."
"Yes, sir."
As the sun set in the sky, we were up on the passes. Well, some of us. Nuada, Aiden, Elspeth, Sten, Layla, and Wynne were with the forces in front of the Chantry, giving last minute tips and care to the civilians who were going to take up arms. The rest of us, though? We were here with the knights and mercenaries I didn't know the names of. Waiting. And I could tell by how everyone shifted that I was not the only one who 'heard' silence. It made them uneasy. I just hated how the wind felt sticky, not refreshing.
'Well, everything is all nice and oiled,' Zevran signed to me. His face showed a grin; his hands showed worry. 'Glistening in the moonlight. It would be romantic if not for the whole 'pieces of wood' thing.'
'You don't approve?' I signed back, smirking. 'I thought you liked oil.'
'Yes, but I'm wondering why everyone thinks that the fires are going to stop the dead and we just will have to fight flaming undead.' He signed 'flaming' twice for emphasis. 'And, alas, there is not many here I would wish to oil up.' He waggled his eyebrows and I hid a grin behind my hand. 'Not yet, anyway. I like my fun.'
I might've replied, but the air suddenly grew even heavier. Night had fallen, and fog was rolling in. And from it… we had shambling corpses staggering forward. A lot of them.
The archers got into position, shooting the flaming arrows to light the barricades on fire. And, just as Zevran predicted, it really didn't slow them down much. Why would it? It wasn't as if the dead felt pain.
Zevran and I exchanged a look, shrugged, and went to flank. He took the right; I took the left. Leliana and Morrigan would handle center with the rest, and hopefully, none would come past us.
I had to say though. Fighting something on fire? Resulted in lots of searing heat, drying eyes, and blisters all up and down your arms. Thank Mythal Wynne had insisted on making us wear Greater Warmer Balm as soon as she heard about the use of fire, and thank Sylaise that Morrigan and Elspeth could make so much so quickly. These blisters were superficial and annoying. The other knights who fought, who had not heeded Wynne's warnings? I saw no few of their hands char, arms blistering from where heated metal clung to their skin as they fought despite the pain.
Knights were insane. Alistair had to physically shove them back to keep from dying.
A corpse tried to shove me into the flaming barricade. I kicked off from it instead, flipping into the air to drive my daggers deep into the skull, ripping off the head. There was no heart to burst. There were not ligaments to shear. The only way to 'kill' them seemed to be dismemberment, or total obliteration of the bodies. Morrigan's freezing to allow us to shatter them did wonders to make the latter possible.
But as the last one fell, I couldn't help but feel something was wrong. The air was far, far too heavy still. Too much pressure. Too much fog, coming from…
'The lake.' I signed the words until one of mine saw the motion and looked to me. 'Something is coming from the lake.' I knew it. Elves had superior night vision, and I had been trained even further. I also relied far, far more on my sight now. And I could see… 'The Chantry is under attack.' Were there screams? I had no way of knowing.
But our group bolted down the hill, slipping and sliding on loose rocks as we caught sight of the fight. There was already a lot of blood, and a lot of ripped apart corpses. I thought most of them might've been the result of Sten. He'd seemed far happier and confident after Nuada got him that sword.
Then again, he and Aiden were fighting back to back, a whirlwind of death. Layla was using her glyphs to keep the dead away from where Wynne had set up an 'infirmary'. There were a lot of bleeding civilians within those wards, but Wynne appeared the picture of calm as she tended to the injured. The remaining civilians moved in a coordinated fashion, so even though I could not yet see him, could never hear him, I knew Nuada was shouting orders. Arrows hinting Elspeth was doing her best to cover everyone, even though there were far, far too many.
Without anyone discussing anything, Leliana went to assist Elspeth and Zevran slipped into the mob of corpses to strike down those aiming for the civilians. Alistair slid to keep block and kill a corpse trying to strike Layla before helping a civilian limp into the wards. Morrigan would likely go to Layla too and ask what plan there was for magic, so I should find Nuada and…
Pain rippled through me. Piercing pain, right at my neck where my armor didn't cover. I slammed my dagger back, catching something, and twisted. More pain, and blood oozing down my neck and armor, but a quick movement caught the corpse that had snuck up on me.
No small part of me was frustrated. I used to be able to hear when someone tried to ambush me. I couldn't do that again. Ever. But I… would just have to be careful. Like keep someone at my back all the damn time.
Gentle light and a gentler touch was the only warning I got that someone else had snuck up on me. Rolling my eyes, I turned and saw it was Morrigan, fingers lingering on the scab. 'Careful,' she signed, smirking. 'I am the only one allowed to bite you.'
'Yes, yes, you are kinky. I know this.' I rolled my eyes and her smirk widened. 'Ah, there's Nuada.' Giving her a teasing, and thankful, kiss to the temple, I bolted for his side. 'Passes are clear, if you were worried.'
'With you lot up there, of course not.' At first glance, everything from Nuada's smile to signing implied perfect calm and confidence. I saw his eyes narrow slightly in worry, though. The slight clench of his jaw in frustration. 'How is your neck?' I tapped the closed up injury with a smile. No real sign, but the message was clear anyway. 'Okay, then you and Zevran are going to play tag with the corpses.' Oh? Now why would… ah.
'Layla and Morrigan delivering judgment?' I signed, smiling slightly. Nuada's returning smile was simply tired. 'Civilians?'
'Got Teagan already getting them into the Chantry. We have long surpassed what they are capable of fighting.' Of course we had. 'The rest of us will play distraction while those two prep.'
'And Morrigan already knows this?' I turned to look at her, only to see Layla physically dragging her off. 'Never mind. Layla clearly has it covered.'
'I do love her so.' Despite the grin and teasing glint in his eye, there was something else, hiding underneath the words. I would confront him later. This was not the time. 'Luck be with you and Zevran, Cleon.'
'If I get bit again, I will hurt you.' With a grin, I was off, snagging Zevran on the way to sign him the plan. Then we went about a merry little chase, jumping into the water to lure more of the dead out even. Why were there so many corpses around here? How many people had died over the years? And how thin was the Veil, for there to be so many spirits pushing through?
There was definitely far more to this than we expected. And we had already expected the worst.
At some point, Zevran and I both noticed that no more dead were emerging from the water and bolted back to the group. There were no civilians in sight. Just our friends, fighting for their lives. No coordinated formation, except to keep them away from Layla and Morrigan, so we simply dove in too, using that as our signal for 'hey, we can kill them at any time now. Preferably now, actually.'
It still took forever for Layla and Morrigan to release the spell. And when it came, I almost wished they hadn't.
A lightning bolt split the sky, charring the ground where it struck and marking the center of a terrifying tornado of lightning. It lifted the corpses into the air, dragging the kicking and, I assumed, screaming into the vortex where it electrocuted them until their bodies crumbled away. All well and good, except the rest of us were stuck in the middle of this.
Something snagged me just as I lost my footing. I glanced up to see it was Sten, using his greatsword as a grounding to keep from flying. Next to him, Aiden was doing the same, holding onto Leliana and Zevran. Closer to the Chantry Doors, Nuada was guarding Wynne, holding onto a pillar that I hoped would not break apart. It was already splintering. It also took me a brief, heart-stopping second to find Alistair and Elspeth. They'd found a spot actually under the Chantry's steps, and were bracing themselves inside to keep from flying.
Morrigan and Layla were just fine, of course. I could honestly have hurt them for not warning us about this! Even if it did work.
The storm slowly, but surely, calmed. The dead were gone. And, as luck would have it, light was blossoming on the horizon. It didn't feel like we had fought for that long, but apparently, we had. We still held still for a very long while before moving. And, of course, all of us whirled right on Morrigan and Layla.
To be fair to them, they both also looked very startled. 'I did not think it would be that powerful!' Layla signed, eyes wide. Her hands shook and that made it hard to read her signs. But I could figured it out, especially with how desperate she looked. 'I am so, so sor-' Nuada took her hands to keep her from continuing. I was glad for it. The signs were becoming a jumbled mess, so I couldn't keep up anyway.
'Next time you two try the Storm of the Century combination spell, please let us set up wards, first,' Wynne signed, taking over. Even Morrigan looked sheepish. 'You two are very powerful mages. That is what made it strong. It drained a lot of power from you.' Well, nice that someone knew what was going on? 'Though, since we are all here, might someone explain why there are so many corpses? Why were they not burned?'
'You will notice that many of the armored corpses were actually Orlesian,' Elspeth signed back easily. Outwardly calm, her hands shook slightly as she signed, and she leaned a little into Alistair. Normally I'd tease, but really, all of us were doing a bit of leaning. That had terrified everyone and it did not help with our exhaustion. 'Fereldans have a bad habit of not giving proper burial to the enemy.'
'I bet they like that now,' Alistair signed, the slight bit of snarking lightening the mood. 'Oh, hey, there's cheering.' There was? 'It is inside, Cleon.' Oh, that was why I had no idea.
Without really meaning too, all of us turned to Aiden. He sighed, shoulders moving a lot from the motion to convey how exasperated he really was, but he went up to the Chantry and opened the doors, peering inside. There was some sort of conversation, and when Aiden turned to face us, he was smiling bright enough to outshine the rising sun.
'No one died.' All of us blinked slowly at the words and signs, so he repeated them, 'No one died. For the first time since the attacks started, no one died. We saved all of them.' A brief moment of staring, waiting for something, anything, to say 'Yeah, no, actually, they all died'. But it didn't come, and soon we were jumping and clapping, laughing and beaming as we hugged each other in celebration.
It was… really nice to see us make a difference again. It made me feel stronger, surer. We could do this. We really could.
Author's Notes: And here we are with the attacking. Zevran's comment occurs when you tell Ser Perth about the oil. The Storm of the Century is the most powerful spell in the game, a combination spell requiring Spell Might, Blizzard, and Tempest. It kills most everything. Including allies if you're on higher difficulties.
Next Chapter – Redcliffe Castle with Layla
