146. Denerim: the City Gates

And now he was supposed to make a speech. There was a city crawling with darkspawn behind him, and Fin was giving him an encouraging smile, and for some reason he was standing in front of hundreds of men and dwarves and elves and being expected to make a speech. How did you make this better than it was?

You didn't. Alistair remembered rallying speeches by Cailan, and Duncan, and a few by his Warden companions besides. The words didn't need to be pretty, but they needed to be right. These were darkspawn. He was a Grey Warden. That, he could handle.

"Before us stands the darkspawn horde," he said, looking out over the assembled forces. "Gaze upon them, but fear them not!" Was that awkward? That sounded a little awkward, but it seemed like the sort of thing a king would say. He had to keep going, because all these people were about to lay their lives on the line for him.

"Beside me today stand my Warden brothers and sisters. They come from diverse backgrounds... from the forests to the south, to Highever in the north, under the mountains in the west, and from here, Denerim itself. All different, but they have one thing in common... they all love Ferelden, and will fight to see her free of this darkspawn menace! They are proof that glory is within reach of us all!"

He worked his way off the dais, moving to stand before the armies on their level, ready to lead them. "Today, we save Denerim! Today, we avenge the death of my brother, King Cailan! But most of all, today we show the Grey Wardens that we remember and honor their sacrifice! For Ferelden!" He raised his hands, and the lines prepared to charge the city. "For the Grey Wardens!"

And so they charged.

Alistair was not about to hold back among the safety of second rank... not in this. No, he led the charge, hitting the darkspawn crawling around the front gates head on, bashing one hurlock with his shield and immediately bouncing off to slice his sword into another. He could feel the thrumming of the horde all around them, but he concentrated on cutting open darkspawn after darkspawn as the front line pushed its way through the city gates.

And then, suddenly, they were spilling through. Alistair felt a push behind him, and he and the men near him burst through the front gates and into the city proper.

The place was a battlefield all right. The gatehouses and buildings in the entrance square were burning, nearly down to the last one. Darkspawn were everywhere, lunging off rooftops and out of alleys to meet the invaders. Alistair raised his hand and shouted something vaguely inspirational, and the human soldiers he'd come in with cheered and leapt to attack.

It did not take long for the assembled forces to clean up the front square, so that all they needed to worry about were the occasional genlocks creeping along the edges. Most of the stronger darkspawn forces had no doubt already penetrated deeper in. Alistair took a moment to catch his breath, looking around at dwarves and elves and humans, and he was suddenly very proud to be here, part of this.

There was a roar from above them, and an angry, taunting cry went up in response from the assembled armies as the archdemon swooped overhead, low enough to let them know it was aware of them, but not enough to get within range of arrows. Not that several of the Dalish archers did not loose a volley anyway.

The great dragon wheeled and flew away toward the back of the city, cutting through columns of smoke as it swooped toward the distant spire of Fort Drakon.

"Wardens!" Alistair shouted. "To me!"

The Wardens converged in the center of the square, and Eamon appeared at Alistair's shoulder.

"All right," Alistair said, looking around at his friends and companions. Already, Percival and Oghren were coated in darkspawn blood, and Wynne moved among them, offering a final patch job on any injuries they'd taken during that first scuffle. "All right, this is it. We're here. The archdemon is here. We're going to take it out."

"We await your command," Percival said softly.

"Right." Alistair cast a glance back up, where the dragon could be seen perched atop Fort Drakon. "The Redcliffe soldiers will stay here and guard this square, to make a safe place for survivors to go and to make sure no more darkspawn get into the city. Eamon, do you think you can handle that?"

"I would rather be fighting beside you," the arl said.

"Too bad. You're guarding the square. You're the one I trust most to do it." Eamon sighed and reluctantly nodded. "Good. In the meantime, I'll take the human forces and sweep the city, clearing out the body of the horde and looking for survivors." He glanced up at Sten, because someone had been holding out military training on them. "There's a lot of them, going a lot of places, so Sten, you'll help me direct the forces."

The Qunari nodded. "As it should be."

"I will take the Dalish to the rooftops," Meila said. "We will be able to gain entry to areas the ground forces cannot."

"Excellent idea." Alistair grinned at her, and she offered a muted smile back. "In the meantime... Garott, you take the dwarves and cut a path straight back to the palace district. Kazar, follow them and find a clear shot when you can. Cut that dragon's wings. Once that's done, concentrate on clearing the horde." The elf mage nodded gravely.

"We will also be following the dwarves, then," Riordan said. "If you manage to get the archdemon down, we will need to be ready to leap upon the opportunity."

"And if you do not manage to get it down," Zevran said with a sharp grin. "We may simply need to be ready to leap upon the archdemon."

Alistair nodded. "That may come up, yes." He cast one more glance around the Wardens, and his chest tightened to think that at least one of them would not be coming back out of this battle alive. "Be safe, everyone. What we do today will save Ferelden and beat back the Blight."

"In war," Finian said, putting his hand out between all of them, "victory."

Percy laid his hand on Fin's. "In peace, vigilance."

One by one, they all put their hands in... Garott, Meila, Kazar, Felicity, Riordan, and himself, all grasping hands in brotherhood. As one, they all murmured, "In death, sacrifice."

"For the Grey Wardens," Alistair repeated, and they all broke away, heading off in different directions to go save the world.