(How is it that all my long chapters are Finian's? He's such a spotlight hog. XD)
30. Climbing the Tower
The sounds of pitched battle waged somewhere outside, fierce and frightening… but inside, there was a much different conflict unfolding.
"Would you two… stop… looting things?! It's making me uncomfortable!"
"Then don't look," Garott grunted while he jimmied the lock off an old chest.
Finian, meanwhile, had climbed halfway up a wall to take a peek at an urn in an alcove. Yep, these settings were definitely ruby. His fingers twitched just looking at it. "Relax, Alistair. Duncan said we had about an hour. It doesn't take that long to climb three sets of stairs."
Percival stood a silent and stolid watch in the doorway of the chamber they were currently ransacking, on the second floor of the Tower of Ishal. He watched them impassively, that cold, empty look back in his eyes. It made Finian worry. Well, at least the noble wasn't sinking into himself, like he had on the road out of Denerim.
And like he'd been after the Joining. Once he'd been able to stand up and keep his dinner down, Fin had found the noble just sitting by the kennels, staring off at nothing. Nothing Finian did had been able to rouse him, so he'd slipped Percival's amulet into his pocket and sat with him in silence well into the morning.
"Garott!" Fin called. "Catch!"
Deftly, the dwarf turned and caught the urn when it was tossed to him, and Finian had his hands free to slide back down the wall.
"Nice find, elf. These rubies have a good cut."
"I know, right?" Fin grinned. He and Garott may not have entirely trusted one another, but if there was one thing they could commiserate on, it was their mutual fondness for finding nice stuff. "I can't decide whether to break the urn and just take the jewels, or try to find room for the entire urn in my bag."
"If you think it's worth something, go for it. It's your find." Garott tossed it back with a shrug. Fin caught it and stowed it in his pack. If he needed the room, he'd just break it later.
Alistair had his hands over his eyes. "Whatever happened to 'we have an important job, Alistair'? That's what I want to know."
"Don't you know?" the dwarf chuckled. "The elf's a wily little puppetmaster. Would've said whatever you wanted to hear, just to get a chance at the tower."
"Oh, sure," Fin crowed while digging through a bookshelf next to a window. "And your so-called 'refusal' to fight under Marnan's command had nothing to do with possible scavenging?"
"What can I say?" Garott's smirk was toothy. "I'm an opportunist."
"Don't let me disturb you two, then," Alistair groaned. "I'll just be over here. Not lighting a beacon. Don't mind me."
While digging through the bookcase, Finian saw something down below the window, the shadows shifting in rain-soaked courtyard beneath it. He peered out, leaning over the sill, feeling the spray of rain against his face.
"Oh no…" Alistair whispered. "Percival, get back!"
An arrow whisked past Finian's ear at the same time he heard a crash behind him. He jerked away from the window as a volley of arrows followed the first through it, flying past his face close enough to feel the wind of their passage. The elf ducked out of sight behind the bookcase.
When he turned, he saw Percival in the doorway, his shield blocking a stream of darkspawn who were trying to enter. As Fin watched, the noble's sword lopped off the head of one hurlock, but another only crowded into its place. The weight was slowly pushing the noble back into the room.
"What the sodding Stone are darkspawn doing past the front lines?" Garott growled.
Finian twisted his wrists, popping his daggers out of his wrist sheaths. He cast the dwarf a grin. "I assume they wanted to get in on the looting."
Garott snorted, unhooking his dagger and hand-axe from his belt. "Too bad we got here first, eh?" And with that, the two of them dove in.
Percival and Alistair created an impenetrable wall around the doorway, their swords flashing while their shields steadily pushed back against the encroaching pack. Finian honestly saw no way around the pair, until he noticed Percival being backed up into a table.
Finian nimbly hopped up onto the table, then, grinning, used it to jump straight over the shield wall. He landed ungracefully on top of a genlock, but slit its throat before it had a chance to complain about being used as a landing pad. Sporting a few new bruises, the elf spun away from a sword that came at him, and swiped at the neck of one of Alistair's hurlocks. A hand-axe to the throat presently took down the darkspawn that had attacked Finian anyway, though he was hard-pressed to spot the dwarf in the crush.
And then, it was over, the small wave of darkspawn dead at their feet. All four Wardens took a moment to catch their breath, carefully wiping the blood off their respective weapons before stowing them.
"So much for this being the safe job," Garott grumbled.
"There are darkspawn ahead of the line," Alistair panted. "It's official… we have to get to the beacon. Now."
"Agreed. Looting just got a lot less tempting," Finian said, putting on his best 'oops, my mistake' smile. Alistair just made a face at him.
The four of them hurried out into the hall. They could now hear the sounds of darkspawn throughout the tower around them: growls from down the hallway, and the scrabbling and clanging of feet on the floors above them. And something heavy slamming around above that, the tower echoing with the thunderous sound.
They found the stairs up to the third floor, Alistair taking the steps two at a time. As they continued on, Finian noticed Garott stopping at the upper landing. The elf turned and saw the dwarf digging through his scavenging sack.
"What are you doing?" He hissed, hearing the sputtering sounds of darkspawn coming from below them. The darkspawn were heading for the same staircase the Wardens had just climbed.
Garott flashed a toothy grin, deftly tying a rope across the staircase doorway. "Giving them a reason not to follow us." Something bladed lay at his feet. The sounds were coming closer. "Go on. I'll catch up."
"But…" A gauntleted hand pulled Finian away from the landing, and the elf reluctantly stumbled after Alistair as they continued running through the curved halls.
Percival was in front now, and he skidded to a stop abruptly around a corner, then ducked behind his shield as a volley of arrows shot into it. The room beyond was seething with a good two dozen darkspawn, and they'd all seen the trio come in.
Alistair ran past Percival, bowling through a line of archers like an angry midwife through… anything, really. Finian followed behind him, leaping on those darkspawn that were unlucky enough to fall down. It was his job to make sure they never got up again.
Over the clashing of steel, Finian could hear the sounds of dogs barking. He saw Percival go rushing by into the next room, but he was too preoccupied with ducking the greatsword that tried to shorten him by six inches to think about it much. Then, Percival reappeared, a dark smirk on his face like a herald of death, and with no less than four huge mabari hounds behind him.
"Avenge your masters," the noble growled, and the dogs leaped into the fray, tearing and biting at tainted flesh with relish.
Finian felt a glancing blow from a mace sting his side, and he dropped to the ground and rolled under a weapon rack to escape his attacker. A moment later, a concussion rocked the floor, and said attacker had been sideswiped by a ballista bolt, and was now pinned to the wall by a two-foot long wooden shaft through its shoulder.
Garott smirked at him, standing on a ballista that had been pushed against one wall. "Didn't miss all the fun, did I?"
"I think it's arguable that you are the fun," Finian panted, getting to his feet and running up behind one of the hurlocks flanking Alistair.
"Sodding right," he heard Garott mumble, followed shortly by the concussion of another ballista shot.
Finian took out the hurlock attacking Alistair with a swift double jab into its side. Then, he twisted around to hamstring a genlock that was clawing at the flank of one of the hounds. Said hound promptly jumped on said genlock and ate its face.
Percival was nearby, fighting off a hurlock and a genlock near the exit into the next room, keeping his back to the wall so they couldn't flank him. Finian dove in and jammed both daggers into the hurlock's sides, and, while it roared in pain, Percival took the chance to thrust his sword through its chest.
The genlock then tried to climb Percival's shield, actually latching onto the thing. However, a swift, brutal motion from Percival slammed the monster into the wall. It dropped off the shield and slumped, leaving a trail of blackened blood on the wall as it fell.
A mabari howled nearby, and Finian turned to see that the skirmish was over, and none of them seemed the worse for it. Fin had a couple new slices he couldn't quite explain, but all four Wardens looked around with clear eyes and intact limbs… which was more than could be said about any of the bodies on the floor. Especially as the mabari hounds continued to tear at them.
"That…" Alistair panted, wiping his brow with one bloodied gauntlet. "…was insane."
Garott glanced back. "More coming." Now that it had been pointed out, Finian heard growls from the stairwell behind them, though the growls were interrupted by a metallic swooping sound.
"What did you…" Finian began. Garott just winked.
"They're everywhere," Alistair said. "I can feel more up ahead. I… don't think we can take much more."
"Someone better make a call," Garott growled. "My traps won't hold them for long."
"There are side rooms off the next chamber," Percival said, then turned and ran through the door without waiting for a response.
They followed after him, turning into a side room off the corridor just as they heard another wave of darkspawn clatter up the stairs behind them. As soon as Alistair had lumbered into the room, Percival and Garott slammed the door shut behind them.
All of them stayed still, holding their breath as they heard a veritable horde of darkspawn pass by the other side of the flimsy wooden door. Someone gulped.
They had ended up in a barracks. Bunks lined the walls, interspersed with trunks and various personal knickknacks. Out of habit, Fin snagged a scrimshaw necklace off a nightstand and slipped it into his pocket. Then, he winced, because he hadn't really meant to do that at a time like this.
Finally, the sounds of growling and shuffling outside their door faded with distance, and everyone breathed again.
"We're never going to make it to the staircase at this rate," Alistair groaned quietly. "How are we supposed to get past a small army of darkspawn with just the four of us?"
There was a window in the room, open and unshuttered to the spring rain. Finian leaned out of it, seeing the courtyard below seethe with pockets of darkspawn. From up above, he could hear something thundering around, closer now than it had been before. Like something gigantic was walking around up on the roof.
Finian poked his head further out the window, trying to see what the thing making the noise was. Then, he noticed the jaggedness of the stones of the tower's façade.
"How well can you climb, elf?" a low voice asked right next to his ear, and Finian jumped, realizing Garott was leaning out the window next to him, also looking up at the stones.
Fin pondered that. There had been a certain palace district estate back in Denerim where he'd had a personal interest in frequently climbing into a second story window. And rooftops had always made excellent escape routes when the guards had seen his hands wander a bit too much. So he wasn't unfamiliar with how to pick a vertical path... But… "It's raining, and higher than anything I've ever tried. I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't be a bit shaky."
Garott snorted a laugh. "You, lie? Never."
"Um, hello?" Alistair's voice called behind them. "What are you guys doing: enjoying the view? The darkspawn army is through the door this way."
Finian thought about that, then grinned at Garott. "He makes a good point. Darkspawn army's that way… so I'm going this way."
The dwarf chuckled and pulled a rope out of his bag. "Loop it around something and drop it back down. We're probably going to need to pulley the tin cans."
Finian nodded and stifled a laugh as he glanced over at Alistair and Percival, both of whom were watching Garott and Finian with baffled expressions. Alistair's expression, in particular, was something he wanted to get a painting of someday.
Then, as Finian looped the rope around his shoulders for safekeeping and climbed up onto the windowsill, Alistair finally seemed to realize what they were planning. "Hey… hey hey hey! Are you insane?!"
"Honestly?" Finian said with a grin. "I've been called that from time to time." Then, he hopped up, his leather gloves catching onto the rain-slicked stone above the window. Carefully, he found a solid foothold on a broken brick, and started making his way up the wall.
It took him a long time to pick his way up the side of the tower. The wind and rain buffeted at him, making him slip around more than he was honestly comfortable with. Once, a brick he was using as a foothold broke loose, and he listened to it clatter its way down the tower for several very long seconds. It was a long distance down. He swallowed.
Finally, shaking with nerves, physical effort, and being soaked through, he reached the lip of the top of the tower… and what he saw there made him duck right back down again.
The creature on the top of the tower was huge, with menacing, spiraling horns bursting from its head. It bent over the bodies of what had once been guards. As Fin watched, it tore off the leg of one corpse and closed its jaw around the limb. Armor and bone alike crunched under its bite.
"Maker's Acrid Bootstench…" Finian whispered. Then, he spotted the box that would light the beacon, right behind the beast. Shaking, Finian fought to remain still—far more still than he had ever been when hiding from guardsmen or angry Alienage elders. His breathing seemed incredibly loud and ragged.
Then, when the monster turned its back—its heavy footsteps were the thunderous sound they had heard two floors down, it seemed—Finian pulled himself silently up over the lip of the tower, and took cover behind a broken bit of wall. He uncoiled the rope from around his shoulders with trembling fingers, and looped it around what had once been part of a decorative iron latticework in a window. He slipped both ends of the rope over the edge, hoping the others had the sense to climb quietly.
Garott came up first, and, when he spotted the monster, the look on his face matched pretty closely with Finian's own. A moment later, he'd stepped sideways into a shadow and disappeared.
Alistair was next, his chestplate tied to the rope so that he could pulley himself up, with help from Percival below. The ex-Templar was grunting with the effort of it, but Finian's frantic 'shut up shut up shut up' gestures silenced him as soon as he came into view.
Unfortunately, that was not soon enough. Even as Alistair reached solid ground, Finian heard the creature moving around behind them, coming closer. It had heard something, and was coming to investigate.
Alistair spat a curse and started frantically pulling at the rope, trying to bring the last of their team up before things went south. This made him rather conspicuous, of course. As soon as the giant darkspawn rounded the broken wall, it would see him.
"Hey, you ugly son of a nug!" a voice shouted from the other side of the tower. "You smell worse than my mother's breath! Take a bath!" There was the sound of something shattering, followed by an acidic sizzle and a roar of pain.
The monster thundered away from their hiding spot, and something smashed. The monster roared again, and there was the sound of a mighty slam.
"ELF! A little help?!"
Finian jumped, realizing that he was just sitting there while Garott faced that thing alone. Alistair was still pulling Percival up, his hands slipping on rain-coated rope in his haste. Finian was the only one who could do anything.
He jumped up from behind the wall and rounded into the room. The chamber took up the entirety of the top floor, with a high ceiling that housed the beacon above them. Smashed crates and tables littered the floor, and the dwarf seemed to be doing his damnedest to use them to his advantage. Garott was running for his life from the charging monstrosity behind him, the dwarf ducking between piles of rubble that only made decent cover for the two seconds it took the monster to swipe them aside.
Finian gulped, the weight of his daggers suddenly feeling very insignificant.
Still, Garott was going to be crushed by a sweep of those powerful arms if Finian didn't do something. The elf and dwarf might have had their differences, but he was still a teammate, and Finian wouldn't let him down.
Finian ran around behind the monster—not a difficult thing to do, since it seemed fixated on tearing Garott into little dwarf pieces. Then, the elf leapt in and stabbed both daggers into one massive ankle.
The creature growled and paused in its tirade, then kicked backwards, catching Finian in the stomach and sending him flying across the room. He landed roughly on the stone and rolled a good ten feet before he stopped—hard—against a pile of broken crates.
It was all he could do for a moment to breathe, even as the monster roared and charged through the debris toward him.
And then Alistair was in front of the thing, bracing with his shield against the monster's momentum. The human, too, went flying when it hit him, and Alistair crashed into the debris next to Finian. The creature's charge had nonetheless been broken, though, and then Percival was there, plunging his sword deep into the monster's left side. The darkspawn swept an arm out like it was swatting a fly, and Percival was pushed a couple steps back, despite the swipe hitting his shield.
"Well, this is nice," Alistair said, carefully levering himself to his feet. "Us getting together to fight for our lives… spending terrifying time together… we should do this more often."
He reached down to help pull Finian to his feet, and the elf only winced a little. Somehow, he had kept hold of his daggers through the tumble. "We could invite the large guy along," Fin said. "Make it a real party."
Alistair smiled wryly. Then, they both winced as Percival was knocked off balance by the monster pounding against the ground at his feet. The darkspawn picked up the noble by the chestplate, and might have done worse if Garott's hand-axe hadn't landed in its foot. The monster dropped the noble and started after the dwarf again, who turned and ran.
"We've missed the signal for sure," Alistair said, face and voice serious. "Finian, you light the beacon. We'll… try to keep it distracted."
Finian nodded, disturbingly relieved not to have to get near that thing again. Then, Alistair charged toward the monster with shield raised, and Finian ran for the box of fuel that would light the signal. It was a compartment in the wall that connected up to the brazier above them. There was a tinderbox next to it, still somehow intact.
His hands shaking, trying not to listen to the crashes and roars behind him, Finian lit the tinder. Then, he stoked the flame, blowing on it to encourage its journey up toward the top of the tower. Soon, the heat was too much for the elf, and he closed the compartment door. Only when he looked up and saw that the signal fire was blazing above them did he turn back to the battle.
The monster was bleeding from a myriad of lacerations around its legs and thighs, but remained relatively unharmed about the head and shoulders. If anything, the cuts to its lower, more reachable half only seemed to make it angry. Alistair and Percival had taken up opposite positions on each side of the creature, each doing their best to hack one arm each to bits. It didn't seem to be working.
Garott seemed to have a broken nose, judging by how much he was bleeding from it, but he dodged around and between the monster's legs all the same, continuing to hack and stab at it. It seemed obvious to Finian, now, that Garott's light little weapons were not going to be able to penetrate that tough hide.
Finian frowned down at his own daggers, because his weapons weren't any better. The only place on this thing that they'd likely even be able to penetrate would be its eyeballs.
The eyes. That might work.
When the monster slammed both hands on the floor, creating a concussion that sent all three of his teammates sprawling, Finian started moving forward. He sprinted, jumping over a pile of debris so as not to break momentum. As he did so, he reversed his grip on his daggers to a backwards one. When he was right in front of the creature, the monster slowly straightening from its ground pound, Finian sprang.
He stabbed downward with all his strength, and his daggers hooked onto the top of the monster's horned head as it rose from its crouch. It roared, and Finian felt its hot breath on his stomach. He kicked out and bent his knees to keep his legs firmly out of reach of the thing's jaws.
One gigantic hand curled around his waist, and Finian moved frantically, yanking his daggers out of the creature's thick skull to bring them in again… this time with perfect accuracy.
The monster roared as both its eyes were slashed clean through, and that hand around his waist tightened so violently that Finian felt something inside him crack. He gasped, but didn't have time to react, because he was suddenly whipped around, his head snapping forward with the force of it. Then, he was flying through the air at impossible speed…
…until he hit something solid a moment later.
There was a second where the only thing he was aware of was a ringing in his head, and he lost sight of the tower to a wave of blackness.
Then, the pain rushed in. His leg his back his head his ribs oh Maker it all hurt so bad. He tried to cry out, but he couldn't seem to find the breath to fill his lungs with.
"FINIAN! Oh Maker, don't you die on me too!"
Hands were on him, and everything they touched throbbed. He tried to whimper, but there was something in his lungs. A cough didn't clear it… was that blood he tasted?
He opened his eyes, and blearily registered the man kneeling over him. A golden halo in the firelight.
"More coming," Alistair's voice said from far away… or maybe he wasn't too far, and Fin was just hearing everything through water. "We need to go."
"I'm not leaving anyone behind," Percival hissed. Percival was the figure above him. But where… the thought slipped away as another wave of pain rushed over him. "Can he be pulleyed down?"
"Not in that state," Garott said, somewhere behind Fin. "Bet that toss busted some ribs. It'd probably only make things worse."
"Then I'll carry him."
Finian felt hands slide under him. In any other case, they'd have been overly gentle, but now… when one of them brushed his right thigh, agony shot through him and a strangled shriek left his mouth, despite lack of air. Blackness started closing in from the corners of his eyes.
"May be kinder to put him down quickly," the dwarf's voice grunted.
"You try it, and I run you through here and now." Then, more gently. "Easy, elf. Just hang on."
Someone was whimpering feebly. Finian thought it sounded like himself. He couldn't see anything anymore through the darkness. His whole body throbbed, a steady beat of pain to the rhythm of his heart.
"Oh blast it!" Alistair's voice cried. "Here comes round number… I can't even remember anymore!"
From far away, Fin heard the sound of steel being drawn, and there was a sensation of movement that faded as the rest of the world did. And over it wavered a frightened, fading voice: "Don't die on me, Finian. Please… hang on."