Chapter Warning for character death.
Finn resolutely did not look as they raced across the Gallows courtyard. Around them, templars smote the mages who appeared in the windows of the Tower; cleansing auras exploded in his peripheral vision as others dispelled baneful effects cast on the assault team.
They hit the main doors and stopped; this was the weak point in the plan, from Finn's point of view. He unleashed a flying fist of stone at the doors, as Vashti spidered up the dressed stone wall. He didn't expect it to work, and it didn't - any Circle Tower worth the name had doors that could stand up to most spells a mage might use to try and open them.
So now they were stuck here until Vashti opened the things from within.
It seemed an achingly long time. Ariane and Fenris, both carrying bows, kept them from being entirely defenseless; any mage who showed his face long enough to cast risked a skewering. But there were only the two warriors, and a lot more mages. And more than a few seemed really personally angry that he was fighting alongside templars. He gritted his teeth and made a sound that he hoped was more "pained grunt" and less "girlish shriek" as another bolt of arcane energy lanced into him. At least it wasn't a -
He saw the tiny glowing seed shoot from a high window the same moment some vast machinery within the walls began to clank, winching the doors open. "Cover!" he cried, trying to throw himself through the door before it was open enough and bouncing off again. Ariane caught him as she hurled herself forward, a streak of blue light impossibly arced over them, and the fireball blossomed behind them.
Flames gouted through the opening doors, but they were spared the worst of the spell's fury. Ariane's weight bore him to the floor, and her armored body covered most of his back; heat seared the back of his neck and ankles, but that was all. To judge by the string of exotic profanity the elf unleashed, she took the brunt of it.
"Ariane!" Finn heard Vashti's shout, then a sort of flopping clatter not typical of the Warden.
"Vashti, stop!" he called, as Ariane rolled off him. Fenris, a pattern of blue-white lights in the dark, ignored him to close and secure the doors - which was fine by Finn. "You're wounded?"
"Ice spells," the Warden admitted. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Finn could make out the pair of mages sprawled, dead, on the other side of the hall, goose-fletched shafts embedded in their chests. "Hurts to move."
That decided him. Finn called down enough healing energies for all of them, even if he didn't especially need it. It was a strong spell to invoke this early in their sortie, but he thought it was better than facing down their foe with limps. "There," he said, as soft white light sparkled momentarily in the gloom. "That should..." His voice trailed off as he stared, horrified, at what he'd seen in the brief light.
"The abomination shows his true colors at last," Fenris growled.
Down the wide main hall, leading to the central stairs, a row of dead templars stood watch on either side. Each was pinned to the stone walls by a metal spike, driven through the forehead.
Right where the brand for the Rite of Annulment would go, actually.
"But... but he's a healer," Finn protested, as Ariane and Vashti climbed to their feet.
"He is an abomination," Fenris repeated, unlimbering his sword. "The question is, where will he -"
"Sh." Vashti held up a hand for silence. After a moment, Finn heard it: the... silvery jingle of a bell?
Then it stopped.
"Wisp," Vashti ordered, voice low. Finn summoned the magical light and, when the Warden pointed, sent it flying up one of the side staircases. There was a low growl, and the jingling again; he couldn't see what the wisp was disturbing from this angle, so he dropped it towards the floor, angling the shadows up...
A roundish head with feline ears was projected up to the ceiling, just before the growl turned to a vicious snarl and the wisp's light flashed. He hurried with the others to the base of the stairs, and saw a great orangish cat trying to claw and bite the spell wisp. It had clearly been biting and clawing something else as well, for its mouth and paws were red in the wisp's light.
The Seheron tiger whipped its yellow eyes to them, and immediately ignored the wisp in favor of more familiar prey. It launched itself into the air, taking the stairs in one magnificent, terrifying leap that ended on Ariane. The allan'isa went down under its vast weight.
Blade, arrow and magical bolt hit the beast almost simultaneously. Its spine cracked under Fenris's greatsword as Vashti put an arrow in its throat as its great jaws tried to find purchase on Ariane's helmet. Finn suspected his modest contribution was probably unnecessary - until the tiger lifted its head and tried to lunge at the Tevinter elf.
It was too wounded to fight effectively; Finn dragged Ariane away from it as Vashti stepped back, peppering it with more arrows. Fenris backed away, then leapt forward again with another crushing blow. The tiger thrashed, jingled, and lay still.
"Nothing serious," Ariane muttered to him as she got up, again. "Bruised from that hit, mostly. Creators, if it had gone after you, though..."
"Ser Pounce prefers to eat templars." The voice was familiar, but changed - doubled, another sound behind or within it. Anders... or something like Anders... stood at the top of the stairs. The shape of the Tower's resident runaway troublemaker seemed blurred to Finn; it took him a heartbeat to realize that wasn't a visual effect, but a magical one. It was similar to the shroud he'd seen Arcane Warriors pull around themselves, cloaking their being in the Fade. But if Vashti and Fenris were correct, this was the spirit of Justice or Vengeance, trapped in the mortal realm, but somehow manifesting in/around/through Anders.
Finn's mouth went dry as incontrovertible proof of abomination was suddenly before him. On some level, he'd thought the locals here had been exaggerating, or mistaken, confusing a spirit healer with... this. And yet... it still looked like Anders, not like the things the Warden had fought in the Tower. Did that mean something? Could the spirit be removed, perhaps?
Before Finn could say a word, the familiar zip! of Vashti's bow told him the Warden wanted to end the conversation. He couldn't see what happened at the top of the stairs, but he heard the sound of wood splintering against stone. "I saw you coming, Commander, just like I didn't see you returning to the Vigil. I owe you vengeance for that abandonment."
"Missile shield spell," Finn muttered. Naturally. If he knew Vashti were coming for him, that'd be the first thing he'd cast, too.
"I should have killed you when first you violated Kristoff's corpse, spirit," the Warden growled, unsheathing her elven knives.
"Wait!" Finn cried. "Anders, it's Finn, Florian, Flora, from the Tower, do you remember? We trained as spirit healers under Senior Enchanter Wynne together!"
"Pointless." Fenris brushed past him, and Finn caught the elf's arm. "Wait! Maybe there's a way we can -"
The Tevinter looked back at him with disbelief, raising one hand to cuff him away. Violet-white light flashed from above; his brands alight, Fenris let go of Finn, staggering slightly as the arcane bolt hit him. "Of course I remember you, Finn," Anders said.
"Wonderful! Then - "
"That's why you're not all on fire," Anders continued. "I wanted to give you a chance. The Circle never chafed you, but you must be intelligent enough to see how its policies of oppression must end. The boil must be lanced. Stand with us."
Finn's head swiveled to stare at the impaled templars across the hall. "Anders, this is madness!"
Anders sighed and lifted his staff. Quietly, as if speaking to himself, he said, "The right to shoot lightning at fools..."
Ariane's invocation of Elgar'nan cut off abruptly as lightning forked down from above. Finn's world went white with pain for a moment, then cleared; he'd barely gasped a breath when another strike hit him. Vashti and Ariane both were stumbling, trying to climb the stairs toward Anders but seizing every few moments. The fireball would be next, surely. Except... where was Fenris?
Finn caught a moment's glimpse of the elf running up the stairs, huge blade hoisted in two hands. Lightning flashed down its length, then - crackled, sparked over his skin, following the network of lyrium straight down to the ground. Reaching the top, he swung and -
Everything went white again, and when he sagged against the stairwell, panting, he saw Anders, dodging, wave his hand. A wall of ice materialized, expertly trapping Fenris's blade within it. He abandoned it without a moment's hesitation. "I need no weapon to finish you!"
Finn flinched, expecting another lightning strike, but the tempest was over. Vashti and Ariane were already flying up the stairs; he followed, robes hitched up to his knees. He couldn't help if he couldn't see. Anders completed another incantation, and he nearly staggered when he recognized it.
At the top of the stairs, Vashti charged, her two dar'missu at the ready. Fenris had pulled up short, gone defensive - Finn knew exactly why. "Ariane, cleanse him!"
The allan'isa hesitated a bare moment - Finn knew she wanted to call down the fury of the gods on the abomination, it seemed to make the most sense - but to his relief, she listened. Dirthamen, the Dalish god of secrets, could untie the knots of magic - including the very nasty Spirit spell that was otherwise going to make Fenris explode in a mass of bone and guts.
The lines of a repulsion glyph glowed white on the floor under Anders, and Vashti came tumbling back towards them. Finn whirled, tracing the contours of the glyph of neutralization in his mind and trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. Because even though Anders' staff was on the floor, and his arm was dripping blood, his other arm still came down and -
And then Finn was burning.
He toppled over as the fireball roared around them. He didn't scream only because his first gasp of superheated air scorched his airways, and now they refused to cooperate. In pain, terrified that death was imminent, Finn channeled all his remaining mana into a primitive healing spell. The burning pain subsided, his lungs expanded gratefully, and he opened his eyes.
Standing inside the neutralization glyph, Fenris, half his face blistered and charred, lyruim brands extinguished by the glyph, had Anders's head in both his hands, twisted... twisted well past where a head ought to be able to turn. The mage crumpled, and the elf declared, "It is done," before slumping to the floor and coughing.
Finn had lyrium. He had a big bottle to ensure that he was able to get through the binding ritual for Xebenkeck, but also several smaller potions for just this sort of occasion. He hated the stuff, knew what it could do in the long run, but... if there was a time for it, it was now. He fumbled one out, tossed the stopper and drank. Ariane tried to sit up, over to his left; good, she was alive. Vashti wasn't moving, but he could hear her labored, gasping breathing.
The neutralization glyph flickered and went out. Anders' corpse jerked upright, eyes glowing violet-red. "Vengeance is not so easily - "
"By the fury of Elgar'nan!"Ariane, still half-sprawled on the floor, flung her hand out. Cold white light poured down from the heavens, and an unearthly scream echoed in the stone hall of the Gallows. When the light faded away, there was only stillness in the darkness.
"Healing, mage," Fenris gritted. "Before something else goes awry."