(It was pointed out to me shortly after posting the last chapter that Wynne and Alistair were a bit too credulous regarding where the rogues went... so if you caught the last chapter within an hour of posting, I did slip in a few extra lines where Alistair goes "where were you?" Check it out if you want, but it's not a big thing.
uchiha jinrai: Yay. Glad to hear it. The Dalish word is an original compilation of canon words: Sa-tu-sulahn: one-creating-singing. I wish we had enough pure canon to go on, but I hope that it makes sense, anyway.)
87. Crossing the Chasm
It was in the Dead Trenches—watching the archdemon soar over its seething army of darkspawn, the army's torchlight lighting the trenches up like magma as far as the eye could see—that the Wardens realized just what they were up against.
Seven of them against thousands. The archdemon had called together an army. And the Wardens had seven. Even if most of Felicity's understanding of warfare was theoretical, she knew that these were odds not even the most reckless gambler would take.
"He doesn't come above the Trenches much," Kardol said. "Just sits down there and shrieks. Won't likely see him this far in, either." The Legion captain had pulled them into a small alcove in the old thaig ruins, offering them meager fare of water and some sort of gamy dried meat that Felicity had no wish to have identified for her. Outside their alcove, the Legion of the Dead could be heard fighting another wave off, throwing the attacking darkspawn off the great stone bridge and into the chasm below.
"Have you ever considered trying to take him down?" Marnan said. She sat across from him with Kardol's Deep Roads map laid out on the stone table between them.
The captain snorted. "And how would we do that, jump on his back?"
"You have archers, certainly?"
"Archdemon's not our job, m'lady. Whole Legion knows that. We fight the 'spawn, hold the line, but an archdemon? Taking one of those without a Warden is suicide."
That piqued Felicity's curiosity. "Is that official Legion rote?"
The ragged tattoo-faced dwarf gave her a curious look. "Close enough. Not sure where it comes from or why, but it's one of those bits of knowledge that's been passed down for a long time. Me, I'm not willing to test it on my own men. There are few enough of us now as it is."
"Sodding right there are," Garott rumbled heartily. "Good man. We'll take the scaly son of a bitch."
"I fail to see why we do not attack it now," Sten said from somewhere in the back. Again.
Kazar was the one to answer this time, giving the Qunari an incredulous look. "You saw the army it had with it, right? The one that would turn us into people-shaped mush if we even got close to it? Why do you think we're trying to recruit an army: for dramatic tension?"
Sten gave something between a grunt and a harrumph.
Felicity sighed and went back to her codex. She was currently adding to her Deep Roads map, including everywhere they'd been today as well as the parts of the Roads that the Legion of the Dead had mapped out. It was really fascinating how extensive it was—a dozen paths leading to nearby thaigs and even the surface.
"I still think finding Branka is madness," Kardol sighed. "But if it gives us a king, I suppose it's worth the risk. We can't do anything but hold the line until there's a king to give us new orders again."
Darkly, Percival added, "In the meantime, darkspawn overrun your own fortress."
"Yeah, something like that."
"You say that your current orders are to hold the line," Marnan said. "What if we simply move your line?"
"Easier said than done, I'm afraid. This bridge is just too well guarded. As soon as we try to make a move across it, they start throwing their best at us. We may be the Legion of the Dead, but I'm not going to waste useless deaths for no progress."
"Branka's in there," Oghren grunted. "We gotta clear the bridge anyway."
Kardol snorted a laugh and leaned back, shaking his head. "You can most certainly try; I won't stop you. I just hope you know what you're doing."
Something snapped loudly, and everyone spun to look at Garott, The duster held up a spring mechanism and smirked. "Oh yeah. We know what we're doing; don't you worry about that."
Felicity took that as her cue to start packing her notes away. A pity, really, as she'd been hoping to interview Kardol a bit more. Who knew when next she'd get a chance to learn about the Legion of the Dead first-hand? Alas, they had a job to do, and a Paragon to find.
Felicity stood as the others did, double-checking the straps that secured her staff and her healer's kit. It still annoyed her, feeling the lightness felt by the lack of the Black Grimoire. How Morrigan had found out about the book, Felicity would never know, but there was no reversing the flow of knowledge. What was known was known.
They emerged from the alcove to a break in the fighting. The Legionnaires were lined up around the end of the bridge, weapons raised on fatigued arms, but stalwart nonetheless. Felicity wondered what sort of person it took to drop everything to fight the darkspawn… but then she realized that it took the same sort of person that became a Grey Warden. Someone with nothing to lose.
Felicity wondered whether the Grey Wardens ever recruited from the Legion of the Dead.
The Wardens lined up in front of the bridge, gazing off into the distance at the ruins of Bownammar. The place was ancient, even by the standards of the thaigs. The edifices of the fortress rose hundreds of feet in the air, and who could say what stood beyond those gates? All they had were a couple old maps—from before the darkspawn occupation of the fortress—to go on.
Marnan, Percival, Oghren, and Sten all stood at the edge of the giant stone bridge, each hefting their weapons—an impenetrable line of two-handed fighters. Or, at least Felicity hoped it would prove impenetrable, as the second line—Kazar, Morrigan, and herself—would prove a great deal more vulnerable. Hugo sat practically on Morrigan's feet, and Felicity wondered when the hound had gotten so fond of Morrigan, of all people.
Garott had one final, quiet word with Kardol. Then, he started drawing things out of his scavenger's sack: pointed, nasty looking things that Felicity really had no description for. She'd seen him use basic claw traps and the like before, particularly in their days down in the Deep Roads. However, none of those had seemed as complex as the broad, bladed metal thing that he now very carefully placed in front of the warriors, nor the jar he put even more carefully twelve paces in front of that.
Garott lay a field of such devices along a good span of the bridge. Once his bag of tricks was exhausted, he worked his way back to the group very carefully, a smug smile on his face.
Felicity had a difficult time deciding whether Garott was ingenious, or utterly mad.
It did not take long for the darkspawn to notice their presence nearby—a side effect of their mutually Tainted blood, of course. And thus, no sooner had Garott ducked behind the front line that a rumble of footsteps could be felt through the stone of the bridge. Felicity watched, her staff at the ready, as dark figures came into view from the murk across the chasm.
The first wave never reached them.
It was actually a bit glorious, watching the succession of traps that the darkspawn stumbled into. A caltrop trap led directly into a fire trap, which exploded and set off an acidic bomb. The darkspawn went down shrieking under the resulting succession of explosions and the snapping of blade and claw traps. By the time the smoke cleared, all darkspawn save two had collapsed, and those two—crippled by caltrops and claws—were as good as target practice for a laughing Kazar.
Behind them, the Legionnaires burst into applause. Garott sketched a bow toward them, looking quite pleased with himself. After that little show, Felicity honestly didn't blame him.
However, the traps had made a lot of noise, and that meant more darkspawn. There were still a couple traps left unsprung, but it wasn't enough to slow the wave of footsoldiers that stumbled into their front line. The warriors sprang into motion, and the battle was joined.
Felicity was casting healing spells almost immediately, healing a gash on Oghren's forearm when the dwarf dove into the fray with no regard for personal safety, and blunt damage when Percival took a mace to the armpit. Oh, she wished Percival would go back to sword-and-shield… he got hit much more often without his shield, and that meant more work for Felicity, whether Percival was more effective as a warrior or not.
Darkspawn archers came rolling in behind this wave, staying back from the traps, but Kazar had them well enough in hand. A well-aimed fireball knocked most of them clear off the bridge and set the rest to burning.
Another wave was approaching over the bridge, even as the current battle raged on. Felicity shouted, "More coming!" even as she cast a heal at Sten's sword-punctured side. A moment later, a giant spider and a mabari tore into the fray, the former spraying webbing toward the oncoming swarm that stuck them right to the stone. The mabari chewed his way through them. Then, one of the darkspawn got its teeth into the hound, and Felicity cast a heal at the same time that Kazar froze the monster in ice. As one, they both reached for lyrium potions.
After they'd downed the potions, Kazar started casting again, but asked somewhat anxiously, "So how many of these can we take before we start getting loopy?"
"Three, probably. Four at best, before side effects will make us hindrances rather than help." Felicity cast a regeneration spell on Garott, who had somehow caught the attention of a recalcitrant hurlock, and was trying the duck behind the berserkers to shake off its attention.
Kazar nodded, his brow furrowing as he zapped a hurlock archer with lightning. Judging by how his eyes cast down the bridge, he was doing the math. "Shit. We both need to conserve, don't we?"
That honestly shocked Felicity… it was far more consideration than Felicity had come to expect from the once-reckless elf. "Yes, if the darkspawn are as relentless as the Legionnaires say."
They were making some progress, at least. Marnan and Sten seemed to remember that they were trying to push a line, and were pushing step by bloody step. Their refusal to retreat made both targets of the fresh attackers, taxing Felicity's magical reserves. Added to that was the fact that Oghren and Percy were both in full rages, and thus not concerned about their personal health at all. It was frustrating, from her healer's standpoint, to have fighters who did not appreciate just how much energy she was pouring out just to keep them all on their feet.
She had her differences with Garott, but at least the man knew how to duck.
Marnan and Sten pushed forward again, and Felicity was forced to scurry down the bridge after them as they finished off the darkspawn Morrigan had webbed and met the next wave.
This group of attackers had an emissary—a fact that made itself known as the ground exploded around them. Felicity yelped, immediately throwing out heals left and right, cursing that she couldn't somehow get them all at once. Soon enough, she felt that empty pull across the Fade that meant she was out of magic, and reached for the next lyrium potion. A wave of dizziness and a feeling of disconnectedness accompanied this one, but it faded quickly.
The stones under her feet were shuddering, and it took her a moment to realize it wasn't the lyrium potion doing that. A moment later, she realized what was happening and spun on Kazar. "No earth magic on the stone bridge! You'll send us all into the chasm!"
The elf stopped casting, his eyes going wide. Then, he cursed colorfully and shot a fireball at a cluster of hurlocks instead. A pair of them growled and broke away from trying to get a shot on Sten, aiming right for Kazar instead.
The young elf backed up, shooting lightning bolts at them in quick succession. They went down before getting within melee range, but Kazar had to gulp a lyrium potion afterwards. Felicity wondered what number he was on.
She turned her attention back to healing—the injuries were stacking up quickly. Half of Percy's chestplate had been torn open by an alpha's greatsword—though he obviously didn't register the pain, the way he was tearing across the battlefield—and Garott appeared to be limping. Oghren didn't seem to be using one of his hands properly, and Morrigan had dropped her spider form in favor of casting entropic spells into the crowd.
Lightning burst through the Wardens, and Felicity grit her teeth against the buzzing, burning pain of it. Chain lightning, of all things! Between heals, she turned a pointed look at Kazar, only to find that he was shaking off the pain too. That accursed emissary!
Hugo was on it, it seemed. The dog leapt on top of the enemy spellcaster, sending both toppling to the ground with the dog's jaws at its throat. It cast a fireball in Hugo's face, sending the hound flying.
"HUGO!" Percival could be heard crying, disengaging with his current opponent to charge the emissary. The creature was promptly cut in two.
Behind him, Marnan and Sten moved the line up again, though it was getting rather too crowded to tell at this point. They were about halfway down the bridge, now.
Once again, that emptiness hit her, and Felicity reached for another potion. Number three. She downed it, and had to regain her bearings after the potion hit her stomach. She turned her attention back to the fight, but not without noting with concern the sensation of floating she was experiencing.
Kazar was cursing from somewhere to her left, fire and lightning crossing the bridge with increased desperation. The warriors were flagging, the accumulation of their injuries slowing even the berserkers down. Felicity just couldn't keep up… not without getting the chance to apply some bandages and poultices and, in a couple cases, stitches.
Two thirds of the way across the bridge, an ogre rumbled up, throwing a stone into the fray that sent Morrigan and Oghren both flying. Morrigan tumbled clear over the edge of the bridge (oddly eliciting a shriek and renewed bout of rage from Percival). However, she returned a moment later in her eagle form, though her flight patterns were injured and erratic.
The shapeshifter landed beside Felicity, and the healer did what she could to mend the bird's broken limbs. When Morrigan returned to her human form, she nodded her thanks and shakily stood.
Percival and Sten were engaging the ogre, one strong enough and the other angry enough to cause the gigantic monster pain, at the least. Marnan, meanwhile, met another wave of reinforcements with Garott, the pair desperately trying to keep any from leaking past the line.
It didn't work, as a steady stream was heading toward the mages now. Kazar and Morrigan did well enough to fend them off—the latter going so far as to bodily shove Felicity behind the two of them—but that change in tactics took their useful crowd control spells away from the warriors' front, which put more stress on them to hold the line. It was momentum, like an avalanche gaining more strength and devastation due to the steady growth of its own weight.
Archers' arrows were flying now, and Felicity had to down one last potion, losing track of where she was for a moment at the wave of dizziness and confusion that accompanied it. Only Kazar's urgent cry of "Felicity!" roused her, and she shook her head to clear it.
It didn't work all that well. That was it, then. No more lyrium for her.
She turned her attention back to the battle, horrified to see Percival slumped against one side of the bridge, bleeding from the head and looking dazed. The ogre fought Sten now, the Qunari gritting his teeth and matching the beast blow-for-blow, but the dents and slashes on his armor told of how much damage he was taking in the attempt. Marnan was down on one knee, her other leg torn up by something wicked.
Flames shooting out of Kazar's hands briefly obstructed her view, but it was likely for the better, since a couple genlocks had somehow resisted Morrigan's paralysis spell and were charaging the mages. Felicity scrambled to heal what she thought was the most severe (head wound, leg tissue, dog's broken ribs), and then provided magical strength to Sten as the Qunari stumbled back.
Another ogre could be heard stomping up the bridge, and all three mages had to duck a volley of arrows.
Kazar cursed as he stood back up, his head swiveling about. "Where are those damned archers?!"
"I believe they are using the cover of the bridge supports," Morrigan said, pointing. "Twould be what I would do."
"Time for them to meet my good friend, Mr. Fireball." The elf shot out said spell, making several archers burst from hiding, in flames. Garott burst out of the spot as well, and Felicity cast a heal on him as he rolled to put out the flames.
The other ogre crashed into Marnan's weak line, and the princess was thrown back toward the mages. Felicity cast another heal, but it was merely to keep her from dying from internal damage then and there—she would likely not be getting up again for the rest of the fight.
Morrigan shifted shape swiftly into a bear, charging up to meet the monster, and the two started wrestling. Meanwhile, Oghren was trying to tear up the legs of the first ogre, who had crushed something important enough in Sten for the Qunari to be lying face-down on the stone. Felicity cast a hurried spell, repairing the damage.
Oh no. That empty feeling again.
Light-headed with both dread and lyrium, she fumbled with her pack, starting to pull out potions and poultices. They would have to do—oh Maker they were in trouble.
Hugo whined in pain as lightning flew from the darkness at the edge of the bridge. Another emissary.
Felicity started forward with her poultices, but a hurlock blocked her path, and she was knocked aside with a single back-hand. It turned to Kazar, who met it with a blast of ice that froze it solid. Then, the elf burst it with lightning, killing it.
Kazar was panting and leaning heavily on the oak branch that he used as a staff. For a moment, their eyes met, and the fear she saw in his eyes matched her own. Out of magic. Helpless.
The ogre Morrigan was fighting lifted the bear clear off the ground, then turned and threw her like a boulder back the way the darkspawn had come. Felicity wanted to cry as she heard the joyous roars from the darkspawn at the other end of the bridge. Hurlocks and genlocks swirled around the ogre and charged the mages: two of the last targets standing in their way.
Once again, Kazar stepped forward, raising his staff. Bolts of nature magic fizzled weakly out of the staff, so Felicity could only wince as the first of the creatures lunged into him, slashed a clean line across his unarmored torso with his sword. Kazar stumbled back from the next flurry of strikes, red staining the front of his Keeper's robes.
"I'm bleeding…?" Kazar muttered, and for a horrible moment, it was like Ostagar all over again. Their last defense—their strongest weapon—was about to go down, and this time there was nowhere to run.
And then, Kazar's head jerked up, his eyes lit with new fire. "I'm bleeding," he repeated, and this time, it sounded like a threat.
Felicity leapt forward as the footsoldiers surrounded him, bringing her own weak staff to bear to defend the young man she regarded as a little brother. However, before she got there, she was blown back by a concussion of pure force, as were the darkspawn surrounding him.
Felicity tumbled across the stone, rolling to a stop some fifteen feet back. She looked up, sure she was going to see Kazar exploded into tiny elf bits… but what she did see made her more horrified than that.
Kazar stood in a circle of pain-wracked bodies—the only creature standing in a ten-foot radius. A red aura surrounded the elf, swirling dangerously and growing as it leeched energy off the fallen foemen around him.
But… this was… no. NO!
Kazar raised his arms, waving them in an intricate pattern that Felicity had only seen enchanters pull off. The evil aura wrapped around him, coiling tight as he charged the spell.
Then, it released, and chaos broke through like demons pouring out of the Black City.
A vortex of fire spun into being with wild abandon on the bridge, its monstrous column descending from the top of the chamber deep into the chasm. Wind accompanied it, gusting so strongly that Felicity had to keep her head down and grip the bridge not to be blown around like a leaf. That wind shoved a half-dozen darkspawn clear off the bridge. The fiery vortex spun down the bridge, burning and throwing around everything in its path.
One of the ogres had survived the fire. It roared out its pain and charged Kazar, but the mage stepped forward to meet the monster, raising a hand and emitting a blast of force that stopped the gigantic beast in its tracks. It stumbled back, and Kazar raised his hands again, his gesturing painting streaks through the red aura. The ogre roared again, this time in agony, and its blood exploded in its veins. The monster twitched for some time even after it had died.
Kazar stepped past their allies—those who were conscious looked as horrified as Felicity was—and directed a stream of lightning that soared straight across the huge cavern to the fortress gates. Distant shrieks could be heard.
Shakily, Felicity got to her feet and followed in the elf's destructive wake. Marnan was trying to sit up nearby, pale and staring after the elf. "Was that not…" she wheezed. Felicity only nodded and gave her a potion.
Next was Percy, still slumped by the side of the bridge. He, too, watched Kazar's progress. Though dazed, his eyes were hard and cold. She gave him a poultice for his head.
The others got similar care as she went to each one by one with first aid supplies. Neither Garott, nor Oghren, could be awakened, and Felicity thought Morrigan must be somewhere farther down the bridge. The rest, however, were silent as they picked themselves up and started collecting what they could salvage.
Felicity hurried up the bridge, terrified by Kazar's destructive power with every charred and mutilated corpse she came across. It appeared the elf had done that explosive-blood thing several more times—including on an emissary. It made her want to vomit, to know what sort of magic allowed him to do something like that. Finally, she found Morrigan. The witch had reverted to her human form, and was lying unconscious but alive among a circle of savaged corpses.
Careful of Morrigan's obvious blunt trauma injuries from being thrown so far, Felicity knelt down. She could feel her magic trickling back now, so she used what little she had left to reach into Morrigan and fix just enough of the damage to keep the woman going. It would take days for this sort of injury to heal, even with magic.
Exhausted in every way, Felicity jumped when she heard the scuffle of footsteps. She snapped her gaze upwards and saw Kazar coming back up the bridge. That aura was still swirling around him, and the expression on his face was eerie in its blankness.
Kazar stopped when he saw Felicity watching him, the two twenty feet away from one another. From across a newly opened divide, they studied one another. Felicity couldn't say what the boy was looking for, but she herself was disturbed by his expression. She would have expected… something. Anything. Anger. Violent glee. Power-satiation. Not… nothing.
"They're dead," he croaked emptily. The aura around him faded, and he was suddenly very pale.
"You killed them all," Felicity agreed. "With blood magic. You're a blood mage."
"Yeah." He swayed. "I'm a blood mage."
Kazar collapsed, and Felicity burst into silent tears.