The demon was massive, the size of a very large bear at least. It seemed to be like a rage demon, but less coherent somehow. Bits of it appeared to float in and out of existence and one could never quite focus on it for more than a moment before you became immensely fascinated with that rock or the swooshing sound a blade made when swung.
Most would have been to distracted to face such a creature, but Loktar was a dwarf of exceptional willpower, Alistair was a trained Templar, Leliana had some mental conditioning as well (though she did seem less accurate than usual), and the rest of the people present were mages of varying degrees of competence.
All in all, a group well suited to face such a challenge.
"Leliana!" Loktar barked "Ice arrows!". To her credit, the bard only hesitated a moment before switching to her enchanted payload.
"It's not actually made of fire" Wynne said while using her skill to protect the rest from something that seemed to do fire's job just fine.
"Thank you for your lesson in semantics". The Warden's retort was almost cut short by a barely parried blow of the demon's massive arms.
"The arrows seem to be working just fine" Alistair casually remarked. He was kept busy by a gout of not-flame. The monster seemed hellbent on keeping him away.
Wynne acknowledged Alistair's point with chagrin. The demon appeared to be caused some pain, as far as creatures of the Fade could feel such things. It's rebuttal came in the form of an unearthly explosion that flung Leliana into a wall and knocked her out cold.
The damage however, was already done.
Seizing his chance, Loktar drove his blade through what passed for the creatures chest. The demon, fairly miffed, responded only with a swipe from both arms that would have killed the warden had he not dodged. As it was, the creature snapped the broadsword in two.
Lord Aeducan promptly punched it in the face.
The room seemed to stop for a few crucial seconds. Loktar quickly discarded his right gauntlet, now quite hot, from his hand. The demon gave as close an approximation of incredulity as it could with it's even less coherent face area. Almost everyone else was equally bewildered.
Grey Warden or not, Loktar Aeducan was but a mere mortal. Had he really just punched a powerful demon in the face?
They didn't ponder the absurdity for very long because the silence was, of course, broken by the dwarf.
"Stop standing there and kill the damn thing!"
Bolts of magical energy of all kinds once again made the room unsafe; any closets and bookcases not already destroyed by the Abominations were now reduced to splinters and burnt pages. Bits of stonework were tossed around like snowballs and gouts of flame scorched and singed whatever they didn't burn completely. The mages together were faster than the demon and started to slow it down substantially. It would sometimes try to strike at a mage only to be held back by Loktar and his mighty broomstick, recently procured, and retreat. Then, it would try to prey upon the still unconscious Leliana before being stopped by the sudden appearance of an wall of ice. It's attacks were random and capricious but it still did not like being bombarded with heavy and explodey things.
Suddenly, the dwarven Warden threw his most magnificent of weaponry at the entity and in the short moment it was distracted by this new insult all the mages unloaded what they had left. Then Alistair, who had positioned himself fortuitously in the few seconds of bafflement, cornered him. The great demon made some exploratory swipes but seemed to expend most of its energy on staying as far from him as possible. Alistari grinned.
"Oh, big scary demon, afraid of little old me? I'm hurt! Is it because this is a templar blade and I am the one person in this room who knows how to use it!? Say hello to the Fade for me, you ugly beast!"
His silver sword struck at the wound Loktar had made and the demon let out a tortured screech. All were forced to their knees by the unholy sound, but it was too late. What once faded in and out of this world simply faded. The will and the power that had bound all the stray thoughts together died and the once hulking thing evaporated into the air, screaming all the while.
"Were the dramatics necessary?" asked Loktar.
"Yes" said Alistair of the Grey Wardens said, "Yes they were".
Where once the demon stood, now a sword lay. From Silverite it was forged and though its shape was unassuming, the sheen caught the eye just fine.
"Maker preserve us" said Wynne "that's Yusaris, the dragonslayer!"
"One of your folktales, I wager?" was Loktar's commentary.
"No mere folktale, Warden. This sword is older than this tower. It's legend is known by all of Ferelden".
"I went to bed with stories about this sword" Alistair interjected "You could sell this to the Chantry and live like a king for the rest of your days!"
"That life if already mine by right. I care little for your old wives tales or your Chantry's offerings. I am in need of a sword and this one is of fine make. It's no ax, but it will do".
So, he sheathed the ancient greatsword and they went on their way. In the hands of the Warden, it wouldn't be long until the Dragonslayer fulfilled its promise.
Author's Note: What's this? An update? IMPOSSIBLE!
So, here's the second chapter to our little trilogy of weapon-based woe. It's sat around on my computer for at least half a year now and it was high time I released it into the wild. If I get back into Dragon Age, I may finish this little dalliance, but for now: I hope you enjoyed this.