Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make no money.
Author's Note: Whew! Been a hot minute, huh? Sorry, just started a second job and time has not been my bitch lately. But yays for a longer chapter this go-around. I also wanted to write the next chapters before I posted this one because...well, you'll see. Please enjoy!
Interlocking
Chapter Twenty Three: Too Far In
"Everywhere there is blood and flame and the foul stench of demons. Krem's smile tells of menace and viciousness." - Krem and Harding find each other in a world torn apart. A story told in brief glimpses.
Inquisition forces flood through the destroyed gates of Adamant Fortress. The Inquisitor is one of the first, surrounded by their party of Blackwall, Vivienne and Iron Bull, to break into the war-battered courtyard. Krem and the Chargers follow in their wake, rushing past the battering ram, weapons raised, voices bellowing.
They set up a ring behind the Inquisitor immediately, allowing them to push forward as the Chargers guard the flank. Everywhere there is blood and flame and the foul stench of demons. Krem's smile tells of menace and viciousness.
He calls out orders and positions to the Chargers and they follow immediately. Dalish sets several fiery glyphs around the edge of the courtyard, burning up Grey Wardens as they run across them unknowingly. Their howls of pain are drowned out by their comrades raging cries as they rush past the burning, shambling victims. Grim plants himself on the east side of the courtyard, his shield bashing into the first oncoming demon, knocking it to the ground, where Grim stabs it cleanly through the heart with his blade. He whips around in time to knock an oncoming Warden's sword down into the ground, and then smash the shield up and into the man's throat, stunning him momentarily as he stumbles back, coughing. He cuts him down quick. Grim has only a moment to recognize the cold rush of magic sweeping past in the next moment, as he drops to the ground, his shield slammed into the dirt, covering him, a harsh wind of ice bursting against it. When the gale finishes, he stretches his jowls, trying to break the freeze and stinging cold from his neck and jaw. He pushes from the dirt, his movements slowed and icy when he breaks into a run at the nearby Warden mage who sent her magic on him. He times her expected icy flash of escape when she casts Fade Step and he twists his sword to catch her mid-rush. His blade slices across the tender flesh of her stomach and she is gasping a bloody cry of surprise and pain, and then slumping to the ground, still. Grim is already moving on the next target.
Rocky is planted in the rear of the formation, alongside Dalish. As she sends out fireballs toward their charging enemies, the dwarf lobs an explosive past the advancing Inquisitor's party and blows the oncoming pack of demons out of the secondary gate. The courtyard trembles with the aftershocks, several Wardens screaming to their end as they tumble off the blasted walls with the debris. The Inquisitor and their party finish the remaining floundering Wardens and demons from the blast, pressing forward still. It is an endless flood of enemies and Rocky grabs at his bow along his back, fitting an arrow to it immediately and sending it sailing through the throat of an archer along the high wall.
Stitches guards Dalish and Rocky from any lingering attackers closing around the rear of their formation. He catches sight of a small band of Wardens and shades coming in from a room off the southern edge of the courtyard. Dalish catches the motion as well and her arms sweep up to bring a wall of flame before them. But not before the largest of their group rampages at them. The hulking warrior releases a roar that sets the air to trembling, his battle-axe raised and gleaming above his head as he charges past the flames. Stitches pushes off the bloody stones of the square and runs at him, twisting left just as the warrior brings his axe down, and one of his daggers cuts swiftly across his side. The warrior grunts in pain, stumbling slightly, blood gushing from his ribs, but he does not release his weapon. Instead, he swings back with the giant weapon, clumsily, and Stitches barely ducks in time. He slashes quickly with his other blade, cutting the hulking Warden at the knee so that he falls to his good knee, slamming into the dirt, dropping his blade to press his hands against his gashed ribs. Stitches ends him quickly, mercifully, a swift dagger to the back of the man's neck and he is falling face-first and limp to the dusty ground.
The three others of the pack finally make it past Dalish's wall of flames and Rocky picks off the archer of them before the elf can even take her sights. Stitches rushes forward and attempts to finish off the two Shades that accompanied the Warden party. He swings his sword up and parries the sharp claws of the first shadowy Shade as it swipes at him. The loud clang of claws and metal rings between them and Stitches jumps back from the second shade's swing and cuts at its other arm, ducking to roll out of the first one's enraged attack . He is back on his feet in moments, a blade through the chest of the first Shade, its form tumbling into shadowy dust as it clouds his view. He hears the thunk of an arrow just as the remaining Shade's claws rake across his back. There is the sharp, searing pain along his back and he drops to the ground, his knee digging into the dirt as he cries out in anguish. He glances back and sees Rocky's protruding arrow in the demon's shoulder, realizes he might have been sliced clean if not for the dwarf's interference. His hands are quick, and his wrists twisting, as he shoots his dagger arm out to the Shade close behind him, slicing through its dark and Fade-touched torso. It gurgles and jerks, the hot ash splashing fresh across Stitches' cheeks and he is pumping heavy, labored breathes through his chest. He pushes himself from the ground with shaking limbs and grabs a potion from his belt, swallowing the liquid quickly and tossing the empty bottle to the sand below. His back is still throbbing and raw, but the pain is slowly ebbing. He returns to Dalish and Rocky's sides immediately.
Skinner is battling the west flank of the formation with Krem. She parries the swing of a Warden rogue, both of their blades caught in a tangled web of blood-slicked metal. She grits her teeth and is about to push off the rogue when he head-butts her. She staggers back, her vision momentarily blurred, her head aching and swimming. Instinct tells her to move, and she is tumbling left before she can even see the danger. She catches the whistle of the rogue's blade through the air she had just occupied and she reaches to her belt, yanking a smoke grenade from it quickly. She gets to her feet, shaking her head to clear it as she throws the grenade to the ground before him. Skinner dashes out of sight while the rogue whips around quickly, a sharp cough tearing through his throat. The lithe elf has a blade slipped cleanly between his ribs before he can see her, and his knees buckle at the sudden searing pain, falling to the floor where Skinner leaves him to bleed out. Her smile is dark and brutal when she dashes toward one of the Wardens and two demons charging Krem. The female Warden catches sight of her coming up on their side but she is too slow to react. Skinner is already dropping down and sweeping a leg behind the woman's calves, knocking her back along the hard stone. The elf's dagger is sunk deep into her chest and twisted sharply before the Warden can even finish her scream. She notices movement to her right and finds Krem dispatching the two accompanying demons, but there is a flash of light several feet past him and Skinner bolts toward him.
"Krem, duck!" she calls as she runs, blood pumping furiously. He obeys without question, a fireball searing just past his bended back as he drops to his knee. There is another Warden swinging toward him. Skinner braces a hand along Krem's back and swings over, kicking out, her boot connecting forcefully with the oncoming Warden's helmet, knocking it and him to the ground. She lands with a thud in the dirt, sand billowing around her feet and she sends one of her daggers sailing into the throat of the mage who had conjured the fireball. It catches her just below the jaw, her head whipping with the force of it, and blood spills forth over her robes as she drops motionless to the ground. Skinner is at the mage's fallen body in moments, yanking the blade free from her lacerated throat. She looks back to find Krem slamming his maul into the face of the downed Warden she had kicked to the dirt.
The loud crunch of bones answers Krem's deafening swing, and he pulls the maul back into the air, blood and tissue spraying out as he whips the weapon back. He pivots in time to dodge the quick jab of a silent rogue, and he turns, swinging the full force of his weight and his weapon around to smash against the rogue's back. The Warden cries out, stumbling to his knees, his blades flying free of his hands. Krem's maul connects with his skull the next moment, snapping the man's neck in a sick and loud crack from the force behind the swing. There is a dark howl piercing the air then and Krem whips around to find a rage demon bearing down on them. He grits his teeth, his back searing with the faint pain of the near-miss fireball he recently dodged. His hands grip the shaft of his maul tightly and he rushes toward the beast. The burning demon glides across the bloody ground with surprising speed and Krem roars as he swings his weapon back and then surges forward, connecting his heavy maul with the side of the demon's fiery head. It howls and jerks with the forceful hit, splashes of molten flesh splattering the ground. "Dalish!" Krem calls in the brief moment before the demon surges forward. He twists out of the way as it reaches for him, all its weight behind the attack and its fluid, fire-laced body crashes to the ground and then surges back up. Krem is splashed with bits of burning demon gore and he winces at the searing pain just as the swift crackle of ice rushes past him. Dalish's Winter's Grasp snap-freezes the rage demon and Krem is already heaving his heavy maul into the air and crashing it down on the creature. Shards of ice blast into all directions as the maul connects forcefully with the ground. Krem tries to rein in his breathing, blinking the sweat from his eyes. He turns swiftly to call to the Chargers.
"Tighten up and press forward!" They follow without question, and the Chargers trail the Inquisitor's party as they press further into the courtyard. The end is almost in sight.
Krem looks up to the battlements where he knows Harding should be moving in, now that their forces have climbed the walls with the scaling ladders. He can only see blurs of skirmishes. And then barely, like a whisper through the smoke, he sees her perched at the rear of the wall, releasing arrows into the fray while the main Inquisition force pushes back the Wardens along the ramparts, her usual regiment of scouts planted alongside her as they fire into the swarm themselves. He allows a swift and quiet smile before he turns back to the fight. The Inquisitor is already dispatching the last of the attacking demons in the courtyard. They have only seconds to gather themselves and their breathes at the end of the fighting before Cullen rushes into the square with his guard.
"Inquisitor," he begins, but there is a sharp, piercing wale in the night and everyone looks up to the nearest wall to find a horde of demons swarming the ledge. One of the Inquisition soldiers tumbles from the wall into the courtyard and the sickening sound of his broken body slamming into the stones reaches even to them. Krem clenches his jaw. His eyes search the battlements frantically, but he has lost sight of Harding. His breath quickens in his chest, his fingers clenching the shaft of his maul tightly.
Cullen continues. "Inquisitor, we need you on the wall. The demons are pushing our forces back. We need those ramparts, and soon, or we will not get a foothold in time." The Inquisitor nods and Cullen turns to Krem. "Chargers, you will hold this courtyard for the next wave, and then move into the inner square when the advance sounds."
Krem swallows tightly and nods his acknowledgement. Around him, the Chargers are bent over, hands along their knees, panting, and taking the potions that Stitches passes around the group. Grim rubs along his sore jaw. Rocky checks his remaining munitions in the pack along his waist. Krem's eyes move to the wall immediately.
Something is wrong.
Something is wrong and he knows it in ways he cannot explain.
All around them there is screaming and clashing metal and the sharp tang of ash filling their lungs. The air is heavy with death and bloodshed. Krem finds his heart clenching tightly, finds the panic settle deep in his gut when he cannot find Harding.
"Move out," Cullen calls. The Inquisitor heads toward the east stairs, and Bull calls to Krem before he follows.
Krem is about to turn his head to his Qunari commander when he sees it.
When he sees the small and ash-covered form of Harding much farther along the wall than she was before, the dagger in her hand cutting the shade down before her, her bow raised in her other hand to call her scouts' hale of arrows
She's too far in, he thinks frantically. Her name is on his tongue just as an arrow lodges quick and deep in her gut, the scream along her lips drowned in the chaos of battle between them.
So that she is clutching her stomach and falling over the high ledge in deafening silence.
So that all Krem hears is his own blood-curdling scream as it rips from him.