"No. Please! Don't."
"Now, now. You templars have been most cruel."
"Greagoir will have sent for the Rite of Annulment. Surrender and maybe he will let you live."
"What a bore. I think I preferred the begging. He won't be able to purge this tower, he doesn't know its secrets. Isn't that right, Irving?"
In Kinloch Hold, life between mages and templars was, for most of her inhabitants, tense. One group viewed the other as captors holding the mages, forcing them to regret a part of themselves they had no control over; the other group viewed the first as layabouts who had everything provided for them, no hard labour or true grit involved. Even so, for all the bitter resentment, things had not been so bad in many years.
They were huddled in the Harrowing Chamber. Hands bound behind their backs and eyes kept desperately on the floor. Dorian had always longed for his turn in here, but never in his head had it played out like this. Senior Enchanter Uldred had never been a particularly agreeable man, but Dorian could never have imagined this! Their mana had been drained to the point where he felt dizzy just sitting down, and Dorian could see no way out of this nightmare.
Uldred was bringing up templars, one at a time to torture them. He played sickening games with them, taunting them with the chance of freedom before transforming another mage into an abomination.
Then he would bring up another.
The screams seemed never-ending, even after the templar was dead and another was being brought up. Muted sobs could be heard from the mages would were here unwillingly, including Finn who was curled up beside Dorian.
Finn was the son of a Magistrate and his parents had enough influence that they occasionally visited; Dorian knew they even wrote to their son all the time. While Dorian generally avoided Finn, as the sight of him often filled Dorian with envy, now he didn't much care about family, neither his nor Finn's.
"How did he get so much support?" whispered Dorian, eyes flicking from their spot over to the other man.
"I- I thought you heard everything." Finn replied, voice hitching as he tried to smile. "He said Loghain Mac Tir would give us more freedom. A lot of people liked that."
"How did we get from that to this?" He puzzled, clenching his eyes shut as the templar's words dissolved into screams.
"I- I don't – sorry." Finn pressed closer to Dorian, barely able to talk as fear took him. "He's b-building an a-a-army. Oh no!"
Dorian's eyes snapped open at his exclamation, expecting a hand ready to drag one of them over to become an abomination. It was the templar's body that had landed near them... close enough for them to see his unseeing eyes.
"Venhedis!" He swore, pulling his knees up to his chest and shutting his eyes. He wished that he had thought to put his cowl on; it generally spoilt the effect of his hair by hiding so much of it, but Dorian would have liked the comfort of feeling more covered.
An army of abominations? That templar had been right; they would all be killed, mana cleansed and helpless to stop the destruction. Another templar was dragged up and Dorian heard Irving give another angry shout. The mage glanced up and saw Donald, and older templar who always tried to be kind to the mages. Even so, he let out a tiny huff of relief; he didn't know what he would do when Cullen was brought up... if Cullen was brought up. He may have died fighting already.
The thought had him pressing against Finn as he tried not to whimper; it was too hard to even pretend they would be emerging from this intact though, he couldn't attempt to talk himself around as he watched Donald sigh and refuse to join in with Uldred's games.
"He's ran out of mages." squeaked Finn, though Dorian refused to look up. He didn't want to see this, etched into his brain as this already was. "Y-You don't think... D-Do you, does he need willing mages, so you suppose?"
"I... I..." but Dorian couldn't answer. He was twitching as the yelps rang out, desperate to do something, but unable to bring himself to try.
"Maybe not. Guess that's why we're h-here rather than dead."
Dorian wished he would stop talking; the nervous chatter was making him feel sick and he was trying not to cry himself. The next templar was younger, but he had dark hair. Dorian shut his eyes again. He hoped things would die down soon, that Uldred would lose interest. A fair number of his abominations had already wandered off to lower floors and not come back.
The taunting went on a while this time, the man responding so quickly that Uldred sounded delighted with his reactions. The hope that things might fade soon remained little more than a terrified and desperate wish. The man was enjoying himself too much.
"Come on. Come on. Come on." whispered Finn beside him.
"What?"
"This is the part where the hero turns up, right? I th-thought it'd be earlier, when they started killing templars, but it'll be now. Any minute now."
Dorian didn't have anything to say, so he kept his head down and listened as Dorothy was pulled over to Uldred.
"Do you accept the gift I offer?"
"No! Of course I don't! You're a fucking lunatic!" she yelled, anger warring with terror in her voice as she snarled at him.
Uldred laughed.
Dorian couldn't help raising his eyes, watching to see what would happen, to see if she would turn. Magic rippled through the room as the abominations suppressed her and Uldred used some more to help cast his spell.
One of the abominations dropped, unconscious as the experience took his consciousness. However, even as he fell and Uldred scoffed "Weak!", Dorothy rose from the floor, the top of her robes seemingly merged with her flesh, the skin pulled horrifically across her face. Dorian curled up tighter and shut his eyes, trying to seem smaller than he was.
"You're a sick bastard!" yelled Huxley, his anger winning out over his fear. He'd been good friends with Dorothy.
"Bring him here." Uldred simply sounded amused.
There were shuffling noises as the abominations made their way over, more cursing and struggling and then a yelp as Huxley was pulled away. There was a thump as another abomination dropped.
"You do not like my plan?"
"Like it? You... you're insane." The anger was seeping out of his voice, fear taking its place.
"Shame. I'm helping you become more than you are. You should accept that."
"Never!" as they spoke, Dorian's mind was whirling. It seemed the struggle of unwilling mages took the strength out of the abominations. There was a plan in there, he just needed to focus his mind enough to find it. He kept his face down as magic crackled. A plan; he just needed a plan.
"Do you accept the gift I offer?"
There was a grunt from Huxley, them Dorian heard footsteps, loud clanking footsteps. He looked up. As once-Huxley got to his feet, Amell stepped forwards. Behind him, Wynne was glaring; a red-haired woman with daggers stood one side, blood dripping off the blades, and a warrior stood on the other, a helmet covering his face and a sword and shield in his grip.
Amell... Dorian hadn't considered an outside help, but of course it would be Amell. He'd always had unbelievably good timing. Finn was sobbing even harder now, swearing softly whenever he caught his breath enough for words.
Dorian couldn't relax though. Amell hadn't won anything yet.
"Ahh, I remember you. Irving's star pupil." cooed Uldred. "Uldred didn't think much of you then, and I certainly don't see your appeal now."
"I'm still a circle mage, and what you've done concerns me." There was a snarl in Amell's voice that he couldn't quite hide, but the words at least were careful. Amell had always gone for diplomacy over aggression.
"I'm quite impressed you're still alive. Unfortunately, that must mean you killed my servants. Ah well, they are probably better off dying in the service of their betters than living with the terrible responsibility of independence."
Dorian thought of the Tevinter empire at these words. All he knew of it was that the people there had slaves, that mages were free but used blood magic, and the nation was renowned for its population of heartless bastards. Uldred would fit right in.
"You'll soon follow your servants." Amell replied, hand reaching back for his staff. Apparently his patience had come to an end.
"Wait, wait, wait... Let's not be hasty. I'm trying to have a civilised conversation here!"
"What are you trying to accomplish by torturing these people?" There was a real growl in his voice now, though his hand paused mid-reach.
"A mage is but the larval form of something greater. Your chantry vilifies us, calls us abominations, when we have truly reached our full potential." Uldred took a step forwards, eyes shining as he spoke. It was frightening to see how much he believed what he said. "Look at them! The chantry has them convinced. They deny themselves the pleasure of becoming something glorious."
"You're mad! There is nothing glorious about what you've become, Uldred!" spat Wynne. Dorian had never heard such emotion in her voice, she'd only ever been soft-spoken around him.
"Hahaha, Uldred? He is gone. I am Uldred, yet not Uldred. I am more than he was." As he spoke, he stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. "I could give you this gift, Wynne. You and all the mages. It would be so much easier if you just accepted it... but some people can be so stubborn."
"I'm glad so many of them stood up to you." Amell responded, head high as he took a threatening step forwards. The others behind him moved closer as well.
"And what good did that do? I still won." Then he glanced to the side and smirked. "Wait, what do we have here? Why, it's the First Enchanter. Come say hello to your old apprentice, Irving! Don't mind the blood, he's had a hard day."
"What have you done to him?" Gasped Wynne, but Dorian couldn't see her expression. He'd not really looked at the First Enchanter yet, but he looked awful. He couldn't look away.
"Stop him." Irving rasped at them, his voice hoarse as though he had been screaming, and maybe he had. Dorian and Cian had been some of the last mages to be dragged up here. "He... is building an army. He will... destroy the templars and - "
"You're a sly little fox, Irving, telling on me like that." interrupted Uldred, before turning back to the threat to his plans. "And here I thought he was starting to turn."
"N-never!"
"That's enough out of you, Irving. He'll serve me eventually, as will you..."
"No, I think it is you who should serve me!" Amell's anger was evident as he observed Irving.
"Ha! I serve no one. No... I have plans for you. Great plans... Your raw potential, with the strength of a demon behind it, would be unstoppable. I can do that. I can give you power, and a new life."
"I'm sorry." Amell had far too much aggression in his voice for an apology. In any other situation, Dorian might have chuckled quietly to himself about that. "I can't let you do that."
"I don't think your opinion matters. That is what I've decided, and that is what will be done. Fight, if you must. It will just make my victory all the sweeter."
Wynne whispered something to Amell as they grabbed their weapons, but Dorian didn't hear it; he was shuffling backwards as quickly as he could, desperate to keep as far out of the way as possible. Several others had the same idea, wiggling across the floor as best the could. He couldn't miss the burst of magic that changed Uldred into a demon though. He looked like a pride demon.
A warm pulse flushed through the chamber as Wynne began casting regenerative spells. Amell pressed the heels of his palms together and sent fire towards the abominations as their two companions threw themselves into the fray, nimbly dodging the flames.
As they picked off the smaller threats, Uldred backed away. He stretched his hand out towards Samuel and the air around the fallen man began to swirl.
"Do you accept the gift I offer?" the monster asked.
"Use the litany!" yelled Wynne and Amell held a scroll before him and read out words that Dorian didn't recognise.
Dorian lay on the floor and forced his body to relax as the fight continued to rage around them. He'd play dead in the hope that Uldred would not try to turn him. Across the room, he could see Cian pressed against the fleshy material that had presumably grown since Uldred had taken control. Dorian shut his eyes, willing himself to block out the whole thing.
"He's doing something to one of the mages!" came the cry, and Amell spoke those strange words again.
Hiding in plain sight wasn't a cowardly thing to do. Amell seemed to have things in hand, and Dorian would just be in the way. Besides, he had never fought hand to hand before, as he would have to do with his mana drained... In fact, Dorian couldn't remember ever having a serious magical fight before either. He had no experience to draw from here.
He felt someone settle near his feet, either moving out the way themselves... or dead. Dorian didn't know which and still didn't dare look.
"No! Leliana!"
"Here, I've got her."
"Argh!"
The yells continued, though they started to sound fatigued. Dorian was more focussed on not vomiting. Terror crowded so tightly in his mind that he couldn't think.
"For the Grey Wardens!" shouted the armoured man and Uldred cried out.
Dorian looked up in time to see Uldred fall, the man on his chest with the sword piercing the monstrous face.
"First Enchanter!" Amell was running over before his friend had even extracted his sword.
"Maker! I'm too old for this." groaned Irving as he got to his feet.
Dorian shifted as they spoke, and found himself with Finn in his arms. Moments later, Cian had launched himself at them too. He took a moment to take comfort from those who weren't his friends, but who had also been through this terrible experience too.
He remained on the floor long after Irving and Amell had left, after Cian and Finn had limped out and numerous others had gone. He stayed until a templar took his arm and spoke to him in a voice softer than he had expected.
"Come on, that's it. On your feet."
"Is..." Dorian forced himself to look up at the covered face as opposed to the floor. "Did anyone else...?"
"About fifteen templars survived... and with the those of you who survived up here, I think there are about twenty mages left."
"Th-That's it?" Dorian's knees gave out, shock rocking his body which was already sapped with the time drained of mana.
"That's it." the templar's voice cracked as he spoke, the pain evident.
"Cullen? Is he-?" They began to descend the stairs. Dorian was thankful that someone had sent kinder templars up. He was still too weak to get down on his own.
"He's alive."
"Thank the Maker."
"But I think you can forget about any relationship." They made their way through the templar halls, and Dorian half wanted to shut his eyes at the number of bodies and rotten corpses that lined the tower.
"May I ask why?"
"He's... angry. He wanted the Rite of Annulment, from what I can tell."
Dorian had no reply for that. He felt dazed as they moved through the library and then passed the apprentice quarters. They stopped in the chamber by the basement entrance, and something occurred to him.
"Anders! Is he alive? Did anyone check?"
"I'll mention it. You sit here."
The man moved away, and Dorian curled his legs up. In the next room along, he could hear Amell asking about help for the blight, and he wanted to laugh. Help from who? There was barely anyone left.