Chapter 13

A delicate situation… there was nothing delicate about this situation, Briar thought angrily. They had come to the Circle of Magi to seek help for Connor and allies for the war against the Blight, and instead… instead they found the tower had apparently been overrun with abominations and demons.

"Maker, I am tired." She groused, leaning against a patch of the stone wall that wasn't smeared in bodily fluids, dagger and sword hanging from her limp hands precariously.

Knight-Commander Greagoir had gotten as many of his templars out as he could, leaving behind mages and whatever templars hadn't reached the doors in time. Brave man, that Greagoir.

The bastard had also sent word to Denerim, requesting not only reinforcements but also the Right of Annulment. He wanted to destroy everything in the tower, including her mages. The mages she needed.

So she had made a deal.

Alistair spared her a quick glance before looking around, making sure they were in no immediate danger before somewhat relaxing. Though he was not foolish enough to lower the point of his sword. "Briar?"

They had been travelling nonstop it seemed. The last time she could recall resting was after the fight in Redcliffe, and that for only a few hours. After clearing out the main floor of the Arl's castle, they had set off almost immediately to seek for a way to save Connor.

"Don't mind me… I just… give me a moment, Alistair, please."

Alistair nodded, realizing she was having one of her very rare moments. They had made their way through the majority of the bottom floor of the tower, each step worse than the last. The bodies of both mages and templars alike had littered the floor.

He supposed he should have been angry with her, very angry. She had put them both in a situation they were highly unlikely to survive. Greagoir had permitted them into the tower to clear it out and hunt for survivors but he had had one condition.

They would not be permitted to leave unless they had the First Enchanter with them, a not possessed or abomination First Enchanter. If they didn't have him, they would remain in the tower until the Right of Annulment had come through and then they would be razed along with everyone, and everything, else.

Briar had agreed to this, against his better judgment. Granted, he didn't often state a firm opinion on much, but considering he had been trained as a templar initiate… he felt the same as Greagoir did, the chances of anyone surviving were slim to none and it was a risk that shouldn't be taken.

"What do you think we'll find up there?" She asked quietly.

He snapped out of his reverie, frowning at her. She was… afraid, he didn't blame her. "Demons. Abominations. Maker only knows."

"You know how to handle these creatures, yes?"

"Er… a bit." He wished he hadn't said that when he seen panic flash through her eyes. She had faced darkspawn, walking corpses and shades, this wasn't too much different… "Briar?"

"Seeing what that thing in Connor did… to all those people, and knowing we're about to walk into more of them… it's disconcerting." She admitted, managing a small smile when Draven nudged his head against her thigh.

"I would have said it's bowel loosening terror but disconcerting works just as well." She laughed, actually laughed, and Alistair found himself laughing as well. "Well, shall we then?"

"If I said lead the way, would you?"

"I suppose… if this is you trying to make me feel more manly, it's working you know."

"Good, my evil plans are going accordingly."

Rolling his eyes, he pushed open the wooden doors in front of them.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Briar demanded the moment they entered the next room, her blue eyes widening as they fastened on a scorching, literally scorching, demon that seemed to swim towards a group of mages.

"Demon!" Alistair took a step forward, hesitating when a mage stepped forward, staff firmly in hand. He recognized her from Ostagar, trying to place her name but couldn't. She sent the demon back to its hell and whirled on them, causing him to bring his sword right back up. "Wha-"

"Grey Warden or not, I will strike you down where you stand!"

"Wynne!"

That was her name, Wynne.

Briar took a step forward, relief evident on her face. "Wynne, I thought you died at Ostagar… what… what are you doing here?"

Wynne fixed her with a stern look. "I am a circle mage, this is where I belong. Why are you here? The templars would not let anyone in."

"I need help, for a child in Redcliffe as well as aid for the Blight." Briar sheathed her sword, frowning.

"As you can see, the Circle is in no shape to help you, Warden." Wynne's defensive posture slumped, worry marring her still lovely, kind face. "Why were you let in? Are you the ones sent to clean out the tower?"

"No, Wynne, and they have not received reinforcements nor been granted the Right of Annulment yet." Briar said gently, her own fears pushed aside, her 'Walls' firmly back where they belonged, upright, her gaze roaming the children present. "We will help you take back the tower though the only way any of us will get out is if we have your First Enchanter."

"Well… then we'll have to go save him."

If he still lives.