They came by the thousands.
They came with bent swords, ragged daggers and tattered shields; They came with broken bows, split shafts and half-twisted staves; They came with guttural, primal growls, clambering over one another; They came with mindless, selfless abandon, enslaved by the darkness within them that called to them, by the very creature Clarissa had set free but moments ago.
They heralded his arrival with black blood, smeared on the tall stone arches that imprisoned him. They sang of his return with shrill, piercing screams, echoing without end into the deserted mountains. They fell by the hundreds, succumbing to the four intruders who would seek to deny their lord's return.
Still, they came.
Clarissa loosed a flurry of blows at the trio of Hurlocks at her fore, the heat of battle heightening her senses and quickening her movements. The ragtag defense of the Tainted creatures soon failed, and Clarissa found herself lopping off the head of one Hurlock, then another. The final one caught wind of her attack, and barely ducked in time to avoid the gore-splattered blade from taking its head clean off its shoulders. It didn't cheat death for long, though, as Clarissa brought about her finished blow, riding her momentum and turning full circle, stabbing her hapless foe right through its dented steel breastplate.
There was no respite. Another half-dozen Darkspawn had pulled themselves up from the warren of passages beneath the arena and, with their customary snarls of feral anger, started towards the little corner she and her companions had, with sweat and blood, carved from the sea of Darkspawn surrounding them.
"'Bela, get back!" A familiar voice shouted, taut in concentration.
Clarissa spied a shadow of a woman leap backwards through the air, landing behind her just before a searing cone of fire erupted to her right.
Yet another chorus of shrill, pained screams lanced its way into Clarissa's ears as the Darkspawn in the immediate area were cooked alive in their armor.
Perhaps the flames would keep them at bay.
The fire dissipated just as quickly as it had come into being.
Perhaps not.
Charging forward, Clarissa braved the horde once more.
"There's no end to them!" Bethany shouted as she readied what little Mana remaining in her body to cast another spell. Beside her, Varric loaded another bolt into Bianca, followed swiftly by a metallic twang and the unmistakable gurgle of blood clogging the throat of two distinct Hurlocks. A wayward arrow, loosed by a Genlock hanging from a pillar, grazed Bethany's arm, shattering her concentration and making her cry out in surprise and pain. Almost at once, she felt her vision blur and her senses go numb.
Summoning what power she had left, she purged the venom from her wound. The sizzling black ooze burned in her veins as it was forced out of her system. She sealed the wound, the effort taking more out of her than the bleeding did.
We can't take this for much longer! She cast her thoughts towards her sister, wincing as a Hurlock scored a gash on Clarissa's sword arm, the pain echoing through their bond.
We have to! There's nowhere to run! Clarissa shot back, carving a line in her assailant's chest from left shoulder to right hip. The creature fell, but not before striking Clarissa across her right cheek with the flat of its blade.
Clarissa tasted blood. Lots of it.
Come back, Clare! I won't lose you. Not to these monsters! Bethany cried, letting loose a burst of ice magic that cut Clarissa off from further advance and held the raging torrent of Darkspawn at bay. Brandishing her sword, Clarissa stood rigid as Bethany expended yet more of her Mana mending the gash on her flesh. Her eyes, meeting fatigued brown that threatened to drift shut at any given moment, softened as her heart flared with pain.
We'll get through this, love. I won't lose you either, and I don't plan to. Clarissa promised her, forcing determination and forcefulness into her words even as they felt hollow and futile.
Clarissa funneled her strength into Bethany, substituting raw power for Mana. She didn't have much left, but Bethany needed it more than she did. She watched as the jewel on Bethany's staff flared bright once more, as her sister's magic returned to her once more.
Then she turned round to the sight of Isabela holding off half a dozen Hurlocks with her daggers. Even soaked with blood, be it black or red, the curve of her blades never lost its accuracy, nor did they falter when they carved gouges in Tainted flesh. Breathing in deeply, Clarissa joined the bronzed rogue at her side, pulling a preoccupied Hurlock into her sword's embrace.
"We have to make for the entranceway!" Isabela shouted over the din, her exclamation offsetting her parry.
A snarling Hurlock took advantage of the opening and drove its sword diagonally across Isabela's chest.
Gasping in pain, Isabela threw caution to the wind and sidestepped forward, burying her dagger in the overextended assailant. Clarissa pulled her backwards as her momentum carried her ever towards the sniveling horde, and in the process got a quick look at her wound. It was nothing serious, as Isabela's hardened corset protected her flesh from the tip of the jagged edge, but a shallow cut, running from left shoulder to right hip, oozed bright crimson through the torn leather. Cursing herself, Clarissa cast her eyes towards the entrance, relatively untouched by the horde. A scant ten meters were all that stood between them and the Vimmarks.
That, and the swiveling mass of black, Tainted creatures aching to eat them alive.
Something fast... so fast that these ghouls won't even register before we were through.
She had it.
It was far from perfect, but she had it.
"Varric!" She called to her rear, where the Dwarf perched himself on a elevated slab of stone, nailing Darkspawn left and right. "You still have those smoke arrowheads you told me about?" A Hurlock flanked to her left, only to have its face horribly disfigured by Clarissa's bracer.
"Yeah! Got a plan, Hawke?"
Bethany looked at her quizzically as well, making her recollect her thoughts before continuing. It was going to be costly, but she had no other option. "Get those smoke bolt tips out! We'll need them!"
Bethany.
Yes, sister?
Remember that lesson in Force Magic from Father?
Yes.
I need you to use it.
I-
No I's. I'll lend you my strength. You need to blast those bastards apart for us to have a chance at escaping.
But there won't be much left in me afterward, even with you by my side.
I'll be there, love. Even if I have to carry you, I'll be there.
Clarissa felt her sister hesitate, aware of the toll it would take on her. Such a spell, without adequate training, could easily spiral out of control, and all she had in terms of training was that one lesson from their father, taught so many years ago.
Clarissa turned Bethany round and looked into her eyes. She held her gaze as wild, unfocused brown eyes landed on her own.
Maker on high, from thy gilded crown- She prayed to the Maker, to Bethany, casting her plea with her thoughts to all that could hear.
She felt her sister calm, joining her as her reeling mind found the dormant power within her once more. Hear your servants' plight.
We behold before us Your forsaken, the vile Darkspawn.
We are few; They number many. Clarissa could hear the despair in Bethany's voice. She pushed on, calling out to the Maker, someone, something, anything.
We call to you now, our one, true god.
Deliver us from our doom. Bethany pleaded, her faith taking the place of her fear. It was like so many times when she had prayed with Malcolm, her father, when the Templars would knock on their door.
Save us from the darkness.
Guide us to your waking light.
Join us, as we take from these foul souls their accursed undeath.
Clarissa felt her grip on her sword tighten. The golden light from her blade caught in her sister, her lover's eyes as it blazed with renewed fury.
And bestow upon them,
Clarissa felt the very world stand still, the very air being consumed by the unstoppable torrent of Mana. Bethany's eyes cleared, the determination she had hoped to see breaking free of her fear once more.
Our Maker's fury.
The Vimmarks shook as Bethany unleashed her spell, a raw, unstoppable wave of power following the beckon of her outstretched hands, calling forth the power of heaven itself.
A visible blast of air, carried by the spell's unmatched momentum, slammed into the Darkspawn unlucky enough to be at the front.
A deafening boom, rivaling the clap of thunder, reached Clarissa's ears before her hands did, though they were unable to blot out the distinctive and numerous cracks and snaps as some of the Darkspawn crumbled as dry leaves would when swept away by an autumn storm.
The arches that loomed over the entranceway shuddered as the tidal wave of raw magic, only slightly diminished, tackled the ancient granite with a strength not seen in centuries. Cracks formed on the aged stone, and the entire construct around them shook, as the mountains themselves quaked in the aftermath of the devastating spell. Soon after, the bare patch of ground exploded with dense white smoke, preceded by sharp metallic twangs that sent bolts, at regular intervals, into the stone.
As it were, countless Darkspawn took the brunt of the magical assault head-on. Even with enclosed ears, she heard the crack of bone and the snap of joints echoing the thunderous report.
Countless more were swatted aside, as if they were mere annoyances to be cast into the deep, gaping darkness that was the Vimmark chasms. The ground where they had once swarmed over was now bare, a wide, empty funnel of vacant stone flanked by dazed Darkspawn too disoriented to swing a sword, mired in a think white blanket of impenetrable smoke.
This is our chance. Clarissa's heart leapt as the bridge, in the wake of the spell, remained intact. Looping her arms around Bethany's shoulders, she was puzzled for a moment as the weight on her torso increased tenfold.
Then, she saw her sister, eyes glazed and lips sickly white, kept barely on her feet only by her own arms.
The spell had taken more than she had expected. Her initial elation fled as she watched her sister's eyelids reluctantly drift closed, battling an exhaustion too powerful to overcome. Clarissa felt the bare skin of Bethany's neck, in direct contact with her blood-soaked arm, go cold at a prodigious rate. It was as if the very warmth of her body was expended, robbed from her by the tremendous effort of her spellcasting. She felt the bond between them flag, fluttering as a dying bird would as her soul lost its anchor to hers, drifting apart into darkness.
"No, Bethany! Stay with me!" Clarissa cried, shedding all regard for her life as she enveloped Bethany's mind with her own, shielding it from harm and funneling her already-diminishing reserves into her.
It tugged at her, lyrical strains and tendrils of contact sapping the very warmth from her, making her arms tremble anew and her grip on her sword to slacken. Clarissa felt her heart slow, her vision rim with black, and her mind wander as Bethany unconsciously drew in her very essence. As her vision played tricks on her, she thought she saw a man, hooded and cloaked, standing close by her and beckoning for her to give in, to stop fighting and let herself rest. The bare, hard granite never looked so comforting. While her conscious movement lost their purpose, her mind screamed at her to stop as well, to sever the connection before both of them perished.
If I let go, she dies. She told herself. She pressed on, pushing her adamant mind away. She gritted her teeth, summoning what was left in her to make for the stone archway that, at that moment, seemed too far away.
But she was not alone.
A strong, muscled arm wrapped itself around her waist, and she felt a gentle, yet insistent, tug from her left as something... someone half-guided, half-dragged her forwards. Faintly, she was aware of a voice, muddled and indistinct to her failing senses, spurring her on and asking her who was going to lead them back out of these damned mountains if she dared die.
A Hurlock lunged at her, only to be stopped by a bolt square to its head.
She saw the archway now, the smoke clearing and revealing the exit to be only mere meters away, the doorway to their escape, to uncertain safety. She grabbed onto her tether to Bethany with renewed strength, keeping the shadows that would seek to claim her at bay.
We're almost there, sister. I beg of you, my love, don't let go . Her mind's voice pleaded with desperation.
Scant inches separated them from the archway, from the stone walkway across the chasm. Surely they would make it.
The walkway itself sprang to life as human and dwarf approached, dismantling into individual pieces of stone. Kept aloft by magic, they rearranged themselves into another construct entirely, misshapen and unique cobblestones and boulders slotting themselves into an impenetrable wall, held together by flowing, glowing blue veins of ancient magic.
Clarissa couldn't believe her eyes.
The newly-formed wall pulsed once, as if with finality, completely closing off her view of the chasm beyond.
"Leaving so soon?" A voice came forth from behind her, making a chill run down her spine at its ominous tone. It, by power of voice alone, brought her heart, so alive, so vibrant from the battle around her, to a sudden halt.
She didn't have to turn round to feel its, his, ice cold gaze pierce smoke, steel, flesh and delve into her very soul. She shivered as she felt his eyes graze her shoulder and latch onto the woman she held in her arms.
A word, a name, escaped her lips. A name spoken often enough since her undertaking of this quest. A name that spelled both hatred and dread within her heart. At that moment, as she beheld the strangled whisper that came from her dry throat, she knew which emotion won.
"Corypheus."
/I feel like I'm dragging the moment too long 'round here... Dammit, it's a climax, it's fine, right?
RIGHT?
Anyway I like 2,000 words or so for one chapter. Let me know if you want regular updates (every 2 weeks or so... Skyrim will be the death of me, or at least my social and writing life), or drawn-out, month-long waiting for a big chapter like the older ones. I for the non-existent life of me cannot decide.
Oh and by the way, I am going to change the rating of this story to M, effective from the next chapter. Guess what that entails?
Nightbrainzz: NOPE. Wardens are still gone, last time I checked. All part of my grand plan for world domination, I assure you.
Hotcutii3: Thanks! Finally, your update's here! There will be more to come! (turns around) Must...try...to...not...play...Skyrim...
Koona: Here's more suspense-building for you! Fear not! My fic has a long way to go, kind of like those drawn-out TV shows, where they stuff meh climaxes after meh climaxes after... you get the idea. Let's just say that the story will wade into the later Acts and the end involves the 66th chapter of a certain international bestseller. There, a riddle to keep you entertained, 'til we meet again.
And to all those out there, keeping to the shadows: More is to come. The echoes shall ring forevermore, living on your reviews.
I kid you not.