"We're not making much progress with these assaults, Commander."
Meredith ignored Cullen's words, her hands behind her back as she overlooked the latest attempt of the templars to force their way into the Circle Tower from a hill. Impassive, she struggled not to give voice to the desperate thought. No, but we must try. The need to hurry was growing.
"I almost managed to breach their ranks, had we gotten a better foothold, it would have been all over." Carver growled, the man didn't take failures well, though his efforts had been impressive, according to the survivors of his assault. "We only need to manage it once."
Yes, only once, yet we're not managing that, we're only getting casualties...casualties and no results! Meredith gritted her teeth, if she could have sacrificed a hundred templars for a sure and immediate victory, she would have done so ages ago.
"Eventually, they will be worn down, it's simple mathematics. And yes, as you say, Carver, only one success is needed, they can succeed time and time again and it'll make no difference." Fenris agreed, the lanky elf's sombre tone standing in stark contrast to the more tense humans around him.
Yes, eventually, but how long will it take? We must have the mages under our charge again, we must...we must execute every single one, they've been exposed to the fade without templar protection for too long, the Circle must be annulled. The thought was disgusting, the idea of executing all the Circle mages making her queasy. But Meredith knew there was no option, and no room for doubt. I'll do it myself, execute each and every single one myself...it's the least I can do.
First, however, they needed to capture the Tower.
Ahead, the latest assault was proceeding as planned. The catapults had, on Cullen's advice, been loaded with sacks of smaller rocks and burning sacks of pitch-soaked straw. The missiles did no real damage to the building, but covered it in a haze of grey dust and black smoke, making it difficult to draw a bead on the approaching templar force to those within the Tower. The templars were not taking chances, their shields forming a roof and wall ahead of them as they shuffled forward.
There was a curious lack of missiles coming from the Tower though, and Meredith found her eyes narrowing at the sight. What are you up to, Garrett? The cover isn't that good.
Cullen sighed. "Yes, I suppose, but I'd rather not lose hundreds more templars to wear the defenders down. We could just keep bombarding, maybe dig tunnels...if we get enough breaches, they can't stop us."
There's not enough time for that, Cullen. Meredith bit her lower lip, her body taut as a bowstring, the urge to run down and lead the charge almost overwhelming. We must get in, now!
Ahead, something glittered as it left the Tower.
Huh?
Behind, Fenris noticed it too. "What is that?"
More things, glittering in the air, left the Tower, falling down like snowflakes.
With a boom of blue fire, the ground to the left of the templar force heaved, making the whole troop stagger to the right, one templar screaming, clutched a leg that had clearly been broken by a stone fragment.
Is that... Another explosion, this time in front of the turtle of shields, blossomed in blue fire, stopping the force in its tracks. ...lyrium bombs!?
Two more bombs landed, this time right on top of the templars. The explosions flattened those struck, shields were sent soaring, limbs were sent flying...and the whole formation broke, templars staggering, wounded and unwounded, all covered in blood and gore.
Behind Meredith, Cullen gasped and Carver growled in rage.
Then arrows started to rain from the Tower, blindly loosed through smoke and dust they began to clatter against the ground, but some also struck the now unshielded templars, the missiles sliding off plate armour or punching through the gaps at random. A moment later, fireballs followed, orbs of yellow fire hurtling into the ground before expanding in clouds of fire. The templars, dazed and terrified, were no longer prepared to nullify the magic.
Meredith tasted blood as she bit her lower lip, eyes blazing with rage.
Screaming, crying, templars ran and staggered back. Far too many remained though, blown to bits, felled by arrows or turned to charred pieces of armour and bones.
"Maker, so many losses..." Cullen whispered, horrified.
Fenris grunted in reply. "Such devices are very fragile, it's a sign of desperation to use them. Next time, you might try heavier shots for your catapults against the Tower, a single accident within and they will destroy themselves with such weapons."
"Next time? Are you mad!?" Cullen snarled. "No, Commander, we can't send troops down there again without a more effective way to nullify those weapons, they'll refuse. Perhaps a gallery with a high-sloping roof to deflect those jars or whatever they use to the sides?"
Meredith, jaw clenched tight, didn't answer.
Damn you, Hawke...
When she finally did speak, it was in a low growl."I want more ammunition gathered for the catapults, take apart the whole city if you have to. Also, requisition more food, scour the city."
Behind her, Cullen seemed about to protest, but a tensing of her shoulders silenced him.
"I'll make that Tower their tomb."
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Kirkwall was burning.
All around, people were screaming, clawing at their faces as coiling green lights appeared in the air around them, tentacles of the lights centred around black singularities hovering in the air. From within, leering demons of all types vomited forth, claws slaying left and right, ripping men and women apart, their grins wide as they bathed in blood and savagery.
Horrible, isn't it? The Veil's so thin in Kirkwall, just another little push, and it'll break...
The demons, some like mockeries of humans, other too inhumane to even describe, roared, surging towards the pristine Chantry in the distance, clambering all over it, ripping it apart.
All you worked for, ruined, the disaster you were supposed to avert, reality.
And at the centre of it all, a dark and brooding shape, the Circle Tower stood. The mages and soldiers within now stood outside of it, the mages all sporting impossibly wide smiles, their pale hands dripping with blood, the soldiers misshapen monsters, possessed beasts on leashes held by the mages. All were grinning at her, taunting her, knowing she had lost.
It'll happen, soon...
At the forefront, Garrett stood, the man's face grim, his armour pristine as he glared at Meredith. She took a step back...and the man's eyes flashed purple, cruel magic within, taunting her from behind a veneer of humanity.
He's the centre of it, holding it all up...his words are lies, his actions falsehood.
Meredith shrunk before his gaze, terrified as the city around her burnt, the stones covered in the blood of the innocent.
He'll plunge the world into darkness, he and his mages, he and his nobles...Kirkwall will become a haven for demons and blood mages...
No, no...Meredith shook her head.
Yes, yes he will.
Before her, Garrett's grim facade broke, a grin splitting his face, sharp fangs dripping with venom as he regarded her with hunger.
Kill him, kill him and the others will crumple.
Meredith, glaring back, found the man take a step back. Yes...
Then kill the rest of them.
Around her, the dead men and women were warping into demons themselves, grinning at Meredith...and then hesitating as she rose tall, glaring back.
The voice, so soft, so gentle, yet so demanding, echoed in her mind. Kill all of them!
Meredith woke with a gasp, her skin damp with sweat, her eyes wide. Yes...yes, kill all of them, only way to be sure... She shivered, the thought was horrifying, but it was, in the end, the only way to ensure the veil remained intact, that none of the wide-spread corruption by the blood-mages could escape Kirkwall.
I'll kill them all, end their suffering...but first...yes, first Garrett.
In the back of her head, a small voice chuckled, but Meredith pushed it aside, the woman already on her feet as she shouted to have her council summoned.
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We can do this...
Meredith, standing tall in full armour, felt her confidence grow, her eagerness to put her plan into motion rising with each heartbeat. Her nightmare had been a real eye-opener, her subconscious telling her what she'd known all along...that Garrett was the key to defeating the mages, of destroying them. And once they were dealt with...well...there were a lot of sympathisers, and therefore possible cooperators, to deal with.
Ahead, the Tower still stood, defiant against all the Templars could throw at them...but not for long.
Behind her, there was a polite cough as Carver and Fenris appeared. Even with her back towards them, she could feel Carver standing straight, ready to obey, while Fenris remained more laid back, curious but not otherwise uncommitted. As long as he fights when required. "Commander? You sent for us?"
"Yes..." Meredith answered, hesitating. All I know of him tells me Carver will do what I ask, but if I'm wrong...well, it's time his faith is put to the test. "Do you know what keeps the enemy together? What is keeping them fighting and defiant?"
A silence followed, then Fenris answered. "Hawke."
"Indeed." Meredith pulled free her spyglass. Bought by a dwarven merchant that had been caught trying to escape the city, the man had been nothing but cooperative once he realised he wasn't about to be hurt. For now, I've heard it mentioned he might have had dealings with Garrett...nothing a little questioning won't drag out of him. Meredith grit her teeth, it was horrible thinking such thoughts, but she had no choice now, she would have to be hard, ruthless, if she was to win. "He's the key to it all, once he falls, all will fall." She brought the spyglass to her eye, gazing over the Tower with narrowed eyes. She couldn't tell much from the view, but her dwarven 'friend' with his stone-sense had assured her a part of the outer wall was about to crumple. "So we exploit his weakness."
"Which is?" Carver sounded a little pensive, but not hostile, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Good...
"He's a creature of habit, your blood-brother." Meredith smiled, finally, she was going to make a true impact on the enemy. "He always walks along the defences, every day, checking on everything, talking with the others, that sort of thing...every day, the same route."
"Don't call him my brother, please." Carver grunted, shifting where he stood. "You are my sister, the others here my brothers and sisters...him? He's nothing to me, an enemy."
"Surely an enemy is something?" Fenris pondered, then chuckled. "Sorry, that was...unnecessary of me."
Still not turning to face the two men, Meredith continued. "Part of the outer wall, a section of parapet, has finally weakened under our bombardment. Not enough for us to make a great breach, surely, but enough to destroy the wall and parapet itself...all that's required is another bombardment of that section..."
"Well, that'll reduce the amount of enemy missiles, surely, but I don't see how that's related to Garrett." Carver grunted.
"Depends on when you shoot, surely." Fenris retorted, the elf having sussed out Meredith's plan.
"Exactly." Meredith smiled and turned. Before her, Carver was giving Fenris a frosty look, though the elf ignored him, gaze focused on Meredith, the man now standing more straight, definitely interested. "The catapults will hit just as the man walks there...and they'll bring him down."
Carver shifted where he stood, a hint of uncertainty in his face...but then he straightened, raising his chin as he spoke. "Good, that'll be the end of it, and him, then."
"Hopefully, yes." Meredith, pleased to see her captain knowing where his loyalties lay, smiled at him. "But he is heavily armoured...and if he survives, he'll simply go back into the Tower, or be rescued by the defenders once they can spot him and are sure we're not attacking."
"You want to be sure." Fenris summarised, nodding to himself. "And you have a plan."
"I do." Meredith nodded. "If they think we're charging in when the wall is brought down, they'll lay down all their might to stop us and to rescue their 'Viscount', whether alive or dead. If, however, they see him brought down without us rushing in, with more shots coming their way, they might wait for the dust to clear to mount a rescue, keeping their heads down." She nodded to herself, confident in her plan. "We'll bring him down from his walls, then we'll pour more shots at the enemy, regular stones and burning ones to cause a smoke-screen...we'll make them uncertain of what to do."
"And then make sure he's dead?" Carver grunted, an intense look in his face, eyes blazing with...Meredith wasn't sure what. Hunger? Want? Desire? Worry?
"Yes...with one, or rather two, men going in. That way it'll be less of a chance of the enemy spotting them and react, than if I send an entire detachment." Meredith watched the light grow in Carver's eyes with interest. "They'll finish him off if need be, or they'll simply bring me his head...with his death, with his head paraded before the defenders...we'll finally break their will." We must, it has to work.
"And we are the ones you intend to send." Fenris concluded, arms crossed over his chest.
"Do you...object? I thought you willing to fight him...now is your time to prove it." Meredith queried, unsure about the elf. Mercenary and beast...both are hard to read, and this man is both. "Carver says you're skilled enough...but do you have the will?"
"Oh yes, I do, I have old grudges to settle with him." Fenris replied, arms dropping to his sides as he nodded. "As long as, once he's dealt with, I'm allowed to aid in the slaying of the mages." A growl, the elf baring his teeth like a blood-mad wolf. "There's clearly a sickness in them all, they need to be put down."
Meredith nodded, happy to get that issue over and done with. More hesitant, she turned to Carver, keeping her tone cold. "And you, Hawke? Are you willing to do this? To possibly kill Garrett, your brother in blood? The man who raised you? The last member of your family?"
Meredith had expected a pause, silence, a thought...
Instead, she watched Carver lower his head for but a moment, then raise it, eyes hard. "Yes I am, Commander, yes I am..."
Excellent.
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Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for the shoulder.