Chapter 14
Matthew marched up the path to the city of Amaranthine for the second time. With him were Nathaniel, Oghren, and Velanna, who had survived her Joining. Currently, she was garbed in a set of heavy chainmail armor, and armed with a heavily enchanted shield they had found in the darkspawn base and an ancient, powerful blade called Dumat's Spine, though whether the sword had actually be forged from the first Archdemon's vertebrae, no one knew. The reason for Velanna's change in arms and armor was because after her joining, Matthew had her learn Arcane Warrior spells and Battlemage magic, which complimented each other very well. Velanna had stubbornly refused to learn any "shemlen" magic at first, but after he explained to her that Arcane Warrior magic was elven in origin, her attitude had turned around completely, enough to learn the Battlemage arts.
Matthew's goals in the city were fourfold; first, he had to locate Anders and, if the Templars had captured him, burn the Chantry of our Lady Redeemer to the ground. Second, he needed to track down a few hunters who supposedly had a lead about an entrance to the Deep Roads. Third, he had to destroy the city's smuggler ring. Finally, he needed to somehow locate someone that went by the name of Dark Wolf. After telling Seneschal Varel about the conspiracy on his life, Varel had suggested several ways to undermine them, locating the illusive information broker being one of them.
First things first, Matthew thought. I need to find Anders.
Why you are wasting your time and energy on looking for that imbecile, I'll never know. Morrigan sounded extremely annoyed.
Matthew smiled down at the rosewood ring on his finger. After the ceremony with the nobility of the Arling, Morrigan had altered the spell on their two rings. Now, so long as they were within a certain distance of each other, they could communicate mentally, and could even use their abilities through the link to help each other, should either one be engaged in battle. However, if they went past that distance, which was about past the Arlling's borders, the enchantment would revert to what it was originally; they would only be able to tell the other's condition, location, and their general emotional state.
Behind him, he was surprised to hear Velanna strike up a conversation with Oghren.
"Is it true what they say about your people, Oghren?" she asked. "That they are dying out, the darkspawn always clawing at the gates of Orzammar?"
For what had to be the first time, Oghren looked subdued and pensive. "Yes, and yes," the dwarven berserker said. "It's only a matter of time."
Velanna frowned. "We elves are also few in number, and each of us is precious. We all do our best help every member of our species. But you, you isolate your casteless, forbid them from working or fighting, simply for the accident of birth?"
Oghren snorted. "Yeah, well, the Noble Cast has a giant pole stuck up its collective butt; a pole called 'tradition'." Gesturing to Matthew, he continued. "It's a damn good thing that the boss put Prince Bhelen on the throne; the boy was unsavory, but he had made it his mission in life to rip that pole out, and beat the nobles into submission with it."
Smirking at the mental image of King Bhelen Aeducan beating a dwarven noble with manure-coated stick, Matthew stepped through the gates of the city. Just as he did, however, a city guardsman stepped up to him, holding some sort of missive. "My pardon, ser," the guard said, "but I was paid a whole sovereign to deliver this letter to you."
Taking the missive, Matthew replied, "Thank you for the message. Good day." Bowing the guard stepped back into her position. Opening the envelope, the Warden-Commander took out the letter, and read thus:
Warden-Commander,
Meet me in front of the gates leading to the city's keep. I have an offer you can't refuse.
The Dark Wolf.
Smirking, Matthew thought, Well, it seems that finding the Dark Wolf will be easier than I thought.
Be careful, love, Morrigan said, voice laced with concern. If the past is any indication, these things usually lead to ambushes.
True, he replied, but we still need information on the conspirators, and the Dark Wolf is our best bet in that regard.
Passing through the gates, Matthew turned left and began walking up the street of the city's market district. He paused at Octham the Grocer's stall, though, when he spotted a tome placed upon it. Taking a closer look, he made out the words written on the cover; 'Fading Away: A Warrior's Guide to Harnessing the Spirits of the Fade'.
That would be very useful, Matthew thought. So, he purchased the tome and placed it in his pack, intent on learning how to use these talents later.
Just then, a short way away, Matthew spotted his first objective; Anders stood by the Merchant's Guild board, talking with their leader, Mervis. He immediately ran up to the mage, though whether to check if he was alright or to strangle him he didn't know.
Upon spotting his Commander, Anders said, "Ah, Commander Cousland, there you are! I was just explaining to Mervis here that the attacks on the merchants in Wending Wood should end now."
"I thank you, Commander, for taking interest in our plight," Mervis said to Matthew. "I hope the culprits have been brought to justice."
Taking a quick glance at Velanna, who was now pale as a sheet, Matthew replied, "In a manner of speaking, yes they have."
"That is good to here, Commander," Mervis replied. "I believe that I promised a donation to your order for assisting us in this matter." He handed Matthew a sack of gold sovereigns, saying "Thank you again, Warden." Then he walked back to the Merchant's Guild's Headquarters.
As soon as the man was out of sight, Matthew rammed into Anders, pinned him against a wall, grabbed him by the collar of his robes, and shouted, "Where in the Void were you, Anders?"
"I was taking care of some personal business," the mage spluttered.
Shoving his face into Anders's until their noses were almost touching, Matthew snarled, "Anders, I was beginning to think that either the Templars had captured you or you had deserted; BOTH would result in your head and body no longer being in contact with each other. Now you will tell me what you were doing, AND YOU WILL TELL ME NOW!"
"Ok, ok," Anders stammered. Matthew let go of him, and the mage rubbed his collar bone. "Grouch," he whispered. Then, he took a deep breath, and began to explain himself.
"Alright, Commander, if you must know, I was looking for my phylactery. The Templar's moved the Circle's stores from Denerim to Amaranthine, to protect them from the darkspawn. It's why they were able to capture me the first time; they thought I was going to board passage on a ship, but it was actually to meet with a woman I hired to check to see if my phylactery was among them. From what she was able to tell, it is."
Closing his eyes, shaking his head, and holding up his hands, Matthew asked, "Back up a bit, Anders. What is a phylactery?"
"A phylactery is a sample of someone's blood," Anders explained. "Whenever a mage is taken to a Circle of Magi, the Templars take a small amount of blood from them. That way, if the mage tries to make a break for it, like me, the Templars can track them down."
Matthew felt as if the second part of Anders's explanation was spoken at the end of a long tunnel. He was feeling as if a rage demon had possessed him; his vision turned blood red, his hands clenched into fists, his teeth were bared, and he was shaking with fury. He felt Morrigan try to say something to him, but couldn't understand her; her words didn't make any sense.
Making a visible effort to reign in his emotions, Matthew closed his eyes, and said through clenched teeth, "Anders, are you telling me that the Templars have slaughtered countless innocents, imprisoned every mage they could find, and refuse to listen to any amends to their behavior in the name of eradicating blood magic, and yet they use it themselves!"
"Yep," Anders replied cheerfully. "Pretty hypocritical of them, isn't it."
Matthew was angered beyond accurate description by the mage's confirmation. He was enraged. Livid. Furious. Frenzied. And lots of other adjectives he couldn't even think of at the moment.
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning sparked from the rosewood ring and hit him on the finger, causing Matthew to jump and cry out in pain and surprise.
Ah, THAT got your attention, Morrigan said, voice dripping with acid. If you ever ignore me like that again, I will make you dance like a puppet on strings.
Matthew sent her a savage mental smile. How about you make some fool Templars dance, instead.
Is Alistair one of them? His wife asked hopefully.
No.
Morrigan's disappointment was almost palpable. A pity, but I will settle for some nameless Chantry servants instead.
Turning to his followers, Matthew shouted, "Forget the smugglers, and forget the hunters. We have bigger fish to fry. Anders, where is the phylactery storehouse?"
"In that building, right at the end of the street," the mage replied.
"Let's go," the Commander ordered.
Thus, the group of Wardens marched towards the Templar's hideout. As they walked, Matthew's anger, temporarily dispelled by his conversation with Morrigan, reignited as he approached the disguised warehouse, until he felt like he had ignited and turned into a massive fireball. Most warriors would say this was a grave error to let one's emotions rule their hand, but Matthew had, with Oghren's help, learned how to channel his rage, to control it, instead of it controlling him. He too was a Berserker, and the Templar Order was going to learn to fear him.
Opening the door, the group stepped inside, and was presented with a large, spacious storeroom, with several crates lining the walls. "No guards," Anders commented, evidently confused. "Maybe they don't want to draw attention to the cache. Could we be that lucky?"
Matthew and Morrigan were less impressed by the development. Looking around, Matthew went through the crates and chests in the room, finding several enchanted gloves, boots and robes for mages, as well as several herbal supplies. Then, the group stepped through the door into a smaller room further in.
And immediately found themselves facing three Templars, one of which was the women who had tried to arrest Anders at Vigil's Keep.
"And here I almost believed that the infamous Anders wouldn't take the bait," she said.
"Ah, yes," Anders said, with only mild surprise. "I suppose it would be you."
"Silence, Maleficar," the templar shouted. "You will enslave these people no longer!" And with that, she pulled out a tome, and began to recite from it. As soon as she finished, a wave of blue energy spread from her feet, and passed through everyone present. Matthew felt no change whatsoever.
"Warden-Commander, I am Knight-lieutenant Rylock. You were ambushed and mind-controlled by this blood mage." Holding up the tome, she continued. "This is-"
"The Litany of Adralla," Matthew interrupted. "It ends blood magic mind domination, disrupts attempts to dominate minds, and prevents further attempts of mind domination from being successful. I've used it while I was saving Fereldan's Circle of Magi. And you didn't need to bring it. Anders is no blood mage, and my Warden's and I were never enthralled."
Rylock blanched; the fact that someone would aid an apostate willingly was inconceivable to her. "Why," she asked.
"I recruited him because I needed to rebuild Fereldan's Grey Wardens, and because Anders was innocent. Darkspawn killed the Templars who were escorting him, and it was the one good service the beasts ever did Thedas."
Rylock looked at the Warden-Commander with a mixture of shock and fury. "How can you say that? We do the Maker's work!"
Matthew scoffed. "If the 'Maker's work' means imprisoning, torturing, and raping any mage you find simply for having the gifts they were given, while at the same time slaughtering everyone and anyone who speaks out against you, than I am proud of the fact that our ancestors had enough sense to turn their backs on him." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter here anyway. I am giving you one chance, Rylock; both you and your men leave now and leave us in peace, or you suffer the consequences."
Rylock glared at him, and then unleashed a Holy Smite on the whole group.
It was not nearly as effective as the Templar had hoped it would be. Bracing themselves for the shockwave of the attack, Matthew and Oghren kept their feet, taking only minor damage from the assault. Velanna also weathered both the physical and mental assaults, due in no small part to her new Arcane Warrior abilities. Nathaniel and Anders were not so fortunate; while the latter was able to keep hold of his mana reserves, he was forced down to one knee, while Nathaniel was tossed into the other room. Drawling their blades, the Templars closed in.
Velanna and Oghren each took on one of Rylock's pets. The former exchanged several blows with their swords, before Velanna unleashed her Keeper magic on the Templar, entangling his sword arm with vines, and allowing the elf to decapitate the "holy" warrior. Oghren dodged a horizontal strike from his opponent, and then smashed the pommel of his greataxe into the Templar's gut, causing him to double over. Then, Oghren swung the axe upward, striking the Templar in the center of his faceplate and cutting half his head off. The corpse fell to the ground, the Templar's chin and lower jaw still attached to it.
While all this was happening, Matthew pointed his fist with the rosewood ring on it at Rylock, and shouted mentally, Morrigan, Misdirection and Death hexes, now! Safe in Vigil's Keep, Morrigan cast the two entropic spells on Rylock; the first would cause the majority of her attacks to miss, and the second would cause Matthew's blows to home in on her weak points like they were magnets. Gripping the Summer Sword with both hands, Matthew swung at Rylock's head. Though she blocked the attack with her shield, the sheer force of the blow sent her stumbling back.
Quickly advancing on her, Matthew rained blow after blow on Rylock, inflicting great damage to the Templar while taking almost none himself; Morrigan's skill at weaving entropic spells was second to no one he knew.
Finally, Matthew lashed out with a massive overhead blow, breaking Rylock's mace in two, and forcing her to drop to her knees and let the brocken cudgel go. Matthew struck again, this time sinking the Summer Sword deep into Rylock's Sun Shield. Pulling and throwing to the side, he tossed both his sword and the shield to the side and out of reach of Rylock, and then wrapped his hands around the Templar's neck, and began squeezing the life out of her.
Rylock tried to pull his hands off of her, but it was useless; his arms were like steel bands. When that failed, she tried hitting him on the arms and chest, but she might as well have hit him with a soft cushion for all the effect it had. Trying to pry his fingers off, she succeeded in doing so long enough to gasp, "Commander….stop…please…"
"I WARNED YOU!" Matthew shouted, his voice deep and demonic, while at the same time retightening his grip. "I told you that if you pressed this you would suffer the consequences for it. But you pressed this anyway. Now, I am going to send you to a deep, dark place, and I am going to have FUN doing it!"
The two combatants continued to struggle for the next twenty seconds, before Rylock's eyes rolled back into her head, and her body went limp. Matthew continued to keep his death grip on the Templar's neck for another twenty seconds to ensure the woman was dead. Then, he let go of her, letting her fall to the ground, and went back out to the other room and rejoined the others. Velanna was cleaning the blood from Dumat's Spine, Oghren was helping Anders to his feet, and Nathaniel had just reentered the room, bow drawn and arrow knocked.
Walking up to Matthew, Anders said, "I'm sorry for leading you into this, Commander. It was a dead end." He paused, and then added, "Thank you for helping me."
"No thanks necessary, Anders," Matthew replied, wrenching Rylock's shield off his blade. "I despise Templars."
Flashing his toothy grin, Anders retorted with, "That's because they're all jerks."
The Warden-Commander nodded; it was the truth. In all his travels, he had met only two Templars that could be described as decent people, Ser Otto and Ser Bryant, and both of them were dead.
Shaking his head, he said, "Come on people; we have smugglers to take care of now."