Somehow in the short break most of the ice, plant life and charred remains of fire had been cleared from the area. The mages all looked exhausted, except for Wynne who was serene as ever. The audience was settled up on the balcony while one human, one elf, one dwarf, and one qunari prowled the floor below.
"Welcome back to the ballroom, now that it's cleared of debris. Hey Mahariel, I thought you said it was spell-proof."
"Apparently not well enough. Spells won't destroy the place, but clearly a big gigantic magical mess doesn't trigger the protections."
"Clearly."
"Right. So here we are at Round Five: I Think These Warriors are Compensating for Something. We have Carver Hawke with a massive sword, Fenris the elf with a humongous hammer, Oghren the dwarf with an enormous axe, and Sten the qunari with a really, really large sword."
"So, ladies and gentlemen..." Hawke was interrupted by a loud squawk. A bird flew into the ballroom, startling the men preparing the fight. Sten ducked to avoid getting conked in the head by the frightened creature.
"How did that bird get in here? Can somebody shut the doors please?" Hawke commanded. Carver sprinted as fast as he could in his plate mail to shut the ballroom doors. Unfortunately this had the effect of trapping the bird in the room with them. It flew across the room to the base of the stairs where the golem stood, waiting to give the signal to start the fight.
Shale roared, startling the bird so badly that it gave another squawk and dropped, too scared to flap its wings. From higher up on the stairs, an orange blur launched itself out of Ander's coat, aiming straight for the feathered creature. Shale reached up and grabbed the bird in one hand, crushing it to death.
"The evil fiend has been vanquished." growled the golem solemly.
"Meow." The sound came from very close to Shale's ear. She turned her head to see a small cat standing on her shoulder, looking at the golem curiously.
"Mew?" Shale lifted her clutched fist to the kitten and opened it up to show the remains of the bird. The creature sniffed at the dead thing, and then swatted it off of the stone hand onto the floor. Shale squished the remains of it underneath her foot. The cat circled a few times on Shale's shoulder before settling down and curling itself the crook of the golem's neck. Shale reached up and scratched the cat with one giant finger. It purred contentedly, and Anders looked a bit dejected.
"Now that the epic battle of Shale and Ser Pounce-a-lot versus the evil pigeon is over, let's get back to business. Shale, on your mark!" Shale carefully raised one arm so as not to disturb the sleeping Ser Pounce-a-lot. As her hand came down, four large and dangerous looking weapons went up.
Swords and battleaxe locked together in a tangle. Each man wore a mask of grim determination as they pushed and strained for an advantage. Fenris's hammer came down on top of them. His opponents were jerked downwards as the maul pinned their weapons to the ground, trapping them for a brief moment. He braced himself and then lifted his hammer to try to make another blow. Unfortunately, the qunari was faster. The instant the white-haired elf let up, Sten's sword swept the other contestants. Oghren ducked, and Carver managed to jump back to avoid getting hit, but Fenris – preparing his own strike – was caught by the large sword in the shoulder. As Sten continued his arc, a shiny piece of metal went flying towards the stairs and the elf found he was missing one of his shoulder spikes. One of the mabari hounds leapt up and caught it.
Fenris shook off the sting of the blow, and readjusted his grip on the maul. He held it high and slammed it down at the qunari's head. Thinking quickly, Sten held his sword by hilt and blade edge and raised it up to meet the oncoming weight. He caught the maul under the head and thrust it away from himself; back towards it's wielder. From the center of the room, the dark-haired young lad jumped over the back of the dwarf and charged towards the qunari and the elf. He slashed out with his sword, but Fenris parried his blow with just a flick of his hammer.
"Hah!" laughed Mahariel.
"What?"
"I just thought of something!"
"I thought I had all the random observations. What's yours?"
"Your brother... his name's Carver. He wields a sword, correct? He... carves things... with his sword... It's perfect!" The elf was giggling uncontrollably.
"That's really lame."
"You only think it's lame because he's your brother." She was almost falling out of her chair, her laughter punctuated now and again by an undignified snort.
It was a confusing mess on the battlefield as all four warriors fought for supremacy. There was no clear rhyme or reason; Oghren blocked a blow from Fenris only to strike against Sten. There was a ding in Sten's armor from Oghren, but the qunari was currently locking swords with Carver. Carver swung his sword down to parry Sten and then advanced, forcing him away from the other two and splitting the battlefield.
"Oh Carver..." murmured Bethany.
"Hmm?" Anders said distractedly, his eyes fixed on the cat on Shale's shoulder.
"Why does he insist on tackling the biggest thing in the room? Stupid."
"Well considering his other options are an elf that can punch your heart out with his fist, and a dwarf that can probably kill with his breath alone, I think the qunari is a smart choice."
Now that there were two distinct pairs fighting, it was easier to figure out what was happening on the ballroom floor. Oghren and Fenris held their weapons like staves; with a hand on each end of the handle to give them more leverage. The elf's whole body twisted as he swung his maul, aiming for the dwarf's kidneys. Oghren thrust out his axe and managed to deflect most of the blow, but the top of weapon grazed him and left a dent in his armor. Oghren returned with an overhead strike. The elf grounded his mallet and cartwheeled himself over it to avoid the axe; surprisingly lightfooted for a warrior in so much armor. The dwarf was dumbfounded for a second before his face turned as red as his beard and he rushed the elf in a berserker charge. Fenris just barely managed to put up any sort of a defense; axe and maul met with a loud crash. They struggled against each other, managing to turn themselves in a small circle until Oghren's back was against one of the pillars.
The elf's white tattoos started to glow; still pressing the dwarf, he managed to shift his weapon to one hand and pulled the other one back in a fist. Oghren's eyes grew big, blinded by the light of the lyrium tattoos. He stopped forcing against the maul and slipped off to the side. Fenris's fist came forward, but instead of connecting with the dwarf's head, it smashed into the pillar. He managed to bury his arm up to his elbow, and crack started to form all along the column.
"I take it your ballroom wasn't Fenris-proofed."
"I'm planning on having a few words with Voldrik after this."
"Umm... maybe we should move people away from that side." Fenris had punched the pillar directly under the part of the balcony holding most of Vigil's Keep residents.
"Oh the balcony will hold, the pillar isn't structurally important." Mahariel said. The cracks on the pillar got larger and it was starting to make some interesting groaning noises. "But to be on the safe side... Sigrun, Velanna, Nathaniel; I'd move if I were you." All three looked over the edge, and then at each other. They hightailed it down the stairs and crossed over to the side were most of the Kirkwallians were sitting. Velanna and Nathaniel stood in the open spot between the Chantry brother and Aveline, while Sigrun took the empty seat next to the beardless dwarf.
"I don't think we were properly introduced, dear lady. My name is Varric, and this..." here Varric indicated behind himself, "... is Bianca."
"Bianca? I thought her name was Merrill?" Sigrun said, with a confused look on her face. Varric turned around and saw the dark-haired elf sitting behind him, waving cheerily. He laughed.
"No! THIS is Bianca." He unholstered his crossbow from his back and held it out for her inspection, though not close enough for her to actually touch it.
"Ooohkay... I'm Sigrun. Nice to meet you Varric. And Bianca." She said as an afterthought. She returned her attention to the fight with a slightly perturbed look on her face. Varric shook his head and patted Bianca before returning her to his back.
Fenris had pulled his arm out of the pillar and the glow of his tattoos dimmed down to nothing. Pieces of the column now littered the floor and Fenris and Oghren fought around them, Fenris being careful to avoid stepping on them. On the other side of the room Carver was buoyed by his so-far successful onslaught of Sten. His swings came quickly, or at least as quickly as a two-handed sword could manage. For his part, the qunari seemed perfectly calm. The dark haired boy went in for a new strike. Instead of merely parrying, as he had been doing up until now, the qunari met the sword with the flat of his blade and shoved. Carver went stumbling back. Sten dropped into a crouch, with his hands on the ground. He pushed off, straining every muscle in his large form and charged at the unbalanced boy. Bethany's hands flew to her eyes and the other Hawke sister gripped the arm of her chair until her knuckles turned white. Aveline was also suddenly all attention, and her face went pale.
Carver held out his hands in an ineffective attempt to stop the qunari charge. Sten tackled the boy, lifting him partway off of the ground and driving him into the wall. The qunari recoiled back, letting Carver slump to the ground, the wind completely knocked out of him. Sten swung his sword in a large arc and pointed at his opponent. Carver didn't look at the qunari, just held his hands up and shook uncontrollably. Bethany sprinted to the side of her twin and lowered his arms so she could look him full in the face. She crouched down and pulled his arm across her shoulders with one hand and used the other to hold him by the waist to help him up to his feet, Together, the Hawke twins made their way out of the ballroom, Bethany throwing a glare at Sten as she left. A brief look of chagrin flashed across his face, quickly replaced by his usual stoic mask. Up on the balcony, Hawke was frozen, hands still digging into her chair.
"Hawke, you okay?" Mahariel asked. When the human woman didn't respond, the elf poked her in the shoulder.
"Huh?" Hawke startled and blinked rapidly.
"I said, are you okay?"
"Carver... charge... ogre..." she said, still unfocused. She shook her head and blinked a few more times.
"Sten isn't an ogre. He doesn't even have horns. What are you talking about?"
"It's just... charging on Carver... it brings back bad memories..."
"Of the time your brother died at the hands of an ogre?"
"I really don't want to talk about it."
"But didn't he..."
"Mahariel?"
"What?"
"Shut up." Hawke scowled and kept her eyes resolutely forward. Mahariel pouted.
Sword, hammer, and axe clanged against each other below. The height difference was causing some problems for Sten. He had to swing much lower than usually in trying to get Oghren, and Fenris, while tall for an elf, was still short enough that trying to aim low enough for non-lethal blows was a challenge for the big guy. Fenris brought down his hammer, aiming for Oghren's head, but missed, hitting him in the foot instead. Oghren roared in pain but managed to keep standing. He whirled around with all his weight on his good foot, his battleaxe at knee level; it clanged against, but didn't harm, Sten's plates and sheared off another few of Fenris' spikes.
"You are not seriously composing a ballad, are you?" Morrigan queried the red-headed bard who was writing furiously in a journal.
"Of course. An occasion like this almost demands a song. Besides, if I don't tell the story, that Varric will, and he'll get half the details wrong."
"As will you."
"Yes, but I do it for artistic reasons. He'll just do it to make it more exciting."
"I fail to see the difference."
Sten was on the defensive against Fenris. Oghren was off to the side, easing the pain of his foot by partaking from the hip flask attached to his belt. Fenris wore a look of grim determination; the qunari was almost smiling. He switched his sword to his off hand, leaving him wide open. Fenris hesitated a moment but decided to take advantage of the opportunity. He swung his hammer in a wide arc. Moving quicker than anyone in the room though possible, Sten grabbed the maul just under the head mid-swing. He twisted the maul down and behind Fenris until the elf lost his grip. Sten twirled both giant weapons as if they weighed nothing. Fenris' tattoos flared up again, but Sten, using the same move the elf used earlier, brought the maul down onto his feet. His bare feet. All of the color, all of the glow went out of Fenris' face. He took one step and cried out in pain before pitching forward, only just catching himself with his hands. He looked up at the qunari, and nodded once, swallowing painfully. Wynne rushed down the stairs, already casting some sort of healing spell. Shale took the cat off of her shoulder and handed it to Anders before heading down after Wynne. The golem picked the elf up in her arms and the mage, the warrior and Shale went out of the ballroom.
Sten kept his head bowed in respect until they left. He walked over to where the mabari were standing, and placed Fenris' weapon in front of them, It took both hound to lift the huge weapon but they managed and went off in the direction of the injured elf. Upstairs, one of the hosts looked a bit sick.
"And that's why boots are an important part of any sane person's armor kit."
"Oww... that looked... really unpleasant." Mahariel was an odd shade of green.
"No kidding. Like I said. Shoes. They're awesome. Look at the dwarf. He got hit in the foot, and he's totally fine."
"He's three sheets to the wind."
"I noticed that actually. How's he still standing? Most people I know would be dead after the amount of alcohol I've seen him consume today."
"I have no idea. All I know is that it's never affected him in battle, except that he becomes even more of berserker. His breath also becomes a weapon on it's own."
"Charming." The dwarf's breath didn't seem to affect Sten, either because he was used to it or it simply didn't reach a nose several feet above the short man's mouth. Either way, with the elf and the human out, it left a completely mismatched pair to battle it out for supremacy. The dwarf was favoring one foot slightly, but he mostly just looked really, really mad. He whirled his axe over his head and swung it into Sten's chest. The sharp ax sliced through the plate metal like butter but the dwarf lacked the reach to do damage to qunari skin underneath. Sten retaliated with an uppercut from his sword that knocked Oghren's helm clean off his head. Oghren ignored the lack, and went for a low sweep that caught Sten behind the knee and set him off balance. He flipped his axe around and butted the qunari with the handle. Already unsteady, the tap from the handle caused the big man to go down, landing on his butt with a thud. He quickly maneuvered himself into a kneeling position, which put him at about the same height as the dwarf. Oghren merely laughed, and took another drink from his flask.
Sten brought the flat of his sword down on Oghren's hands, making him drop the flask. Oghren was getting back into a battle stance when the qunari brought his sword pommel into direct contact with Oghren's nose. Oghren let go of his axe to put a hand to his bleeding nose. Sten used the opening to whack the dwarf's head with the flat of his blade. Oghren sank like a stone, and down for the count.
"Didn't realize the qunari would be so skilled on their knees." Isabela whispered to the assassin next to her.
"Neither did I. Certainly he's never demonstrated such... talent before." mused Zevran.
Anders made his way down the stairs towards the unconscious dwarf. Sten strode to the center of the ballroom and faced Hawke and the Warden. He went down on one knee and bowed his head over his sword.
"Congratulations Sten! You move on to the next round." The qunari nodded and got to his feet again.
"Speaking of rounds, Mahariel, you realize there's only one more left before the finale?"
"I know! I'm looking forward to it."
"Me too. This whole thing is exhausting."
"I think our companions are probably more exhausted. After all, they're the ones fighting."
"Yes but we're doing all the talking. And talking's hard."
"Well then maybe you should rest your voice before the next round, Hawke. Ladies and Gentlemen, onto Round Six!"