Chapter 76: Trench Warfare
"FOR THE INQUISITION, THEDAS, AND HOLY ANDRASTE!"
Ana's battle cry rang out across the scarred lands of the Exalted Plains. Inquisition soldiers, scouts, and even a few volunteers from Marshal Proulx's Orlesian army swarmed the ramparts before them. After weeks of hiding and stalemate, thanks to the Inquisition, the Orlesian Army was finally ready to restore order to their homeland.
It was not something that the Freemen of the Dales welcomed. Arrows sang through the air, fired by both the living and the undead. Corpses wearing the remains of Orlesian military uniforms shambled towards the attackers, blades and pikes held ready in their unsteady hands.
Dorian unleashed fire and lightning upon the corpses, the ones that caught flame stumbled into their fellows igniting those behind them. Inquisition archers picked at the Freemen trying to slow the Inquisition's advance.
This was their third such assault; the three ramparts that made up the former battlefield had fallen into the hands of the demons and the undead. The first two had been easy by comparison, there; no living men remained only the corpses of the many who had fallen during Gaspard and Celene's Civil War…
A Freeman charged Ana, likely trying to end the Inquisition's advance here with a single stroke of his sword.
"DIE WOMAN!" he shouted.
Ana met his blade with hers; the runic fires set glowing embers into the man's face when their blades clashed. He stumbled back, surprised by what had happened. The Inquisitor brought her shield up and around, slicing into his face with the hard metal edge…
It was not sharp enough to cut but it did make his jaw click from the impact. The man's sword fell out of position. He back pedaled, tried to recover.
The Herald did not let him. She pushed forward. She knocked his blade away with her shield and brought down her sword.
"WAIT," the Freeman shrieked.
She did not.
Her blade found its mark, cutting through his leather armor with ease.
A bloody gurgle escaped the man's mouth as he fell, his weapons tumbling from his now dying hands.
Ana's eyes narrowed. For a brief moment the memory of her first battle at the Crossroads in the Hinterlands came back to her. The face of the boy in the blue robes danced before her.
Once…that memory might have crippled her, but not here, and no more. More attackers were on the way, she did not have time to quibble over the death of a single soldier. If she paused, she might freeze, and if she froze, she was dead.
She frowned to herself, it was clear that she was not that green little girl any more.
She was not sure if she was happy about that or sad.
She left the man where he lay. She struck out again, cutting down a corpse trying to bring her down with a bow.
She heard a familiar hiss behind her. She kicked away her undead opponent and whirled around with her shield.
The Freeman she had just slain was just starting to raise, blood staining his once brightly colored Orlesian vest, his mask knocked askew as he had fallen down in death.
She beheaded the corpse before he could do anything more than snarl at her. The body once again fell, this time in true death.
The Inquisitor snarled.
They needed to find that necromancer.
The previous trenches had been commanded by a single entity, an undead mage of terrible power, what Dorian had referred to as an Arcane Horror, the body of a mage reanimated by the strength of a powerful demon. These horrors were far more dangerous than the undead husks they had faced before. They were quick and deadly with their magic; a single swipe of their clawed hands could render a man in two.
Dealing with them had been a hard fight indeed.
Of course, in those other trenches, there had been no sign of living men and women, there only the demons had held sway; here she counted many Freemen, which of course suggested that they were finally closing in on the architect of all this horror.
IOI
The Inquisition had managed to capture several of the Freemen; during interrogation they all had referred to a man they called Gordian, their Commander the man who had ordered them to bring the bodies of the dead to the ramparts.
This man interested Ana most of all. A few of their prisoners had admitted to having spoken with the him, personally, he wore the garb of an Orlesian soldier, but more than a few commented on the fact that they suspected something more about the man, something amiss.
"His accent slips sometimes, Madame Inquisitor," one prisoner had said, "Sometimes he refers to his fellow Orlesians like they were strangers rather than his kin."
The prisoner had shaken his head.
"Gordian," he had sighed, "Perhaps he is not a true Orlesian, but that is crazy talk, no? Why would an outside care about us?"
Ana had almost rolled her eyes.
Why indeed?
She would not be surprised in the least if this Gordian turned out to be a Tevinter agent, a mage sent by the Venatori to further this chaos. The Venatori did have a stake in this conflict, the more trouble the Freemen raised; the easier it would be for Corypheus' agents to move unseen.
The Inquisitor sighed.
She suspected the Dorian might be right. That these Freemen were merely pawns in the much larger game.
After Haven, it seemed that Corypheus was not as willing to get his claws dirty. Perhaps he feared a trap, or perhaps he needed time to complete whatever foul sorceries he was no doubt trying now to gain the godhood he so desired.
Ana pursed her lips as she met yet another group of shambling undead.
If this Gordian was a Venatori, he needed to be removed, once than was done; the undead that had been plaguing this place should stop. The Inquisition had already managed to free Gaspard's men from their fort, and even now the Inquisition was working to restore the bridge to the island garrison that was currently being held by those forces loyal to Celene.
Marshall Proulx had not been happy to learn that his Grand Duke had been defeated; still the man was pragmatic enough to see an opportunity when it presented itself. When the time came to face his Empress having the Inquisition there to say that he had helped them would no doubt go a long way to…smoothing over any bad feelings that might remain.
His victory at the side of the Inquisition might mean the difference between a demotion in rank or the head's man's ax.
Proulx preferred to remain a soldier for his Empire, rather than just another body to be thrown upon the late Grand Duke's pyre.
If the Empress chose not to forgive him, Ana would do what she could to have him transferred to the Inquisition; the man had a keen military mind. Their operations in this part of the Thedas could use that. It might mean that the Marshall might have to accept exile, but that was likely better than death.
Ana preferred not to waste valuable people when it was unnecessary, the man had done what he thought was right. He had remained loyal to his ideals.
She would save him if she could, for the Inquisition's sake if nothing else.
They continued to push deeper into the ramparts, there were fewer undead here, and more living Freemen, at least until her soldiers got done with them. She could smell that fresh stench of decay, and that charged sense in the air when powerful magic was in play. That thought pleased her above all else.
She had grown weary of dealing with the puppets.
She was now eager to meet the puppeteer.
IOI
"THE DALES ARE OURS!"
Gordian flung a fireball at the advancing Inquisition soldiers. Ana brought up her shield just like Cassandra and Cullen had showed her, angled just so to keep the fire from exploding right in her face.
Several Orlesian knights defended the necromancer against the advancing tide of the Inquisition. Gordian was alternating between defensive spells and whatever foul spell work he had used to bring back the dead in the first place, trying to turn the fallen to his advantage.
Ana glared at the man, since necromancy was not actively taught in the circle of magi, and considering the demon control she had seen up to now from the man, she suspected that this mage was in fact the Venatori agent that she was looking for.
The thought did not please her.
The Freemen had wasted their lives on false promises, promises made to serve the needs of Corypheus.
It was tragic in its own way.
Gordian glared at her, she wondered if he knew who she was…?
She smiled slightly.
Well, no time like the present for introductions!
"IN THE NAME OF THE INQUISITION," she shouted.
"STAND DOWN!"
The Freemen leader laughed.
"You weel die you marchair beetch! You weel all die!"
Ana almost laughed.
She did not know what was worse, what Gordian had done or his horrible fake Orlesian accent.
And yes, now that she had heard it, she did believe that it was fake.
Whoever this Gordian really was…
…He was certainly no Orlesian.
He tried to cast some fire trick at her feet, the Inquisitor rolled through and tried to engage him directly.
Gordian twirled his staff defensively, falling back into a very familiar rhythm.
Dorian fought in close quarters much the same way.
Circle training in Tevinter she supposed.
"The war in Orlais is over," she snarled as she and the mage locked weapons."
"Zis war eez far from ovair," he growled trying to swipe at her head with the bladed end of his staff.
"Can we just stop with the bad accent please? You sound ridiculous. I mean listen to yourself. What's next over the top evil laughter?"
One of the corpses slammed into Ana knocking her back, Gordian fled to the opposite side of the body pit laughing maniacally.
She managed to push the undead away, but now found herself under attack from several undead archers, arrows, plunked loudly against her shield.
Dark magic began to flow from Gordian's hands. All the bodies that his fellow freemen had brought here, not to mention the ones who had already fallen began to twitch.
She tried to cut her way to the necromancer, but found herself blocked at every turn.
In a few moments, the mage would likely have enough power to raise everybody in that pit, quite a few from what she could see. If he did that…
This fight was about to turn very one sided.
Gordian was grinning at her, she could not see his eyes behind his Orlesian mask, but it was clear that he thought he had won this battle.
"You have lost Inquisitor," he snarled, "I will pave the way for our true victory. We have…URK!"
Ana blinked.
Gordian had been so busy crowing at her, he had let his magic shields slip…
A crossbow bolt now stuck from his neck.
Ana smiled.
Varric emerged from behind one of the stone pillars near the pit.
"Sorry to interrupt pal," he said with a wicked grin, "But Bianca wanted to say hello."
The mage snarled the blood began to rise from the wound; his eyes began to glow balefully.
It seemed that the Freeman leader was not going to go easily.
Ana bolted around the pit, dodging slowly rising corpses, and avoiding decaying hands reaching out of the pit, she leapt into the air, spinning her shield.
Gordian let out an inhuman hiss as he ripped the bolt from his neck, flames began to play over his corpse as he surrendered to whatever demon had called to him. Another moment and the mage would have become a full abomination, powerful and dangerous.
The Inquisitor did not give him that chance.
Her shield collided with the rapidly changing mage, the momentum pushed him into the body pit, the corpses caught it, but the abominations fall bought the Inquisition just what it needed a few extra minutes.
That was all that Ana needed.
That was all that her friends needed.
"Dorian," she shouted, "Burn the pit! Burn it all!"
The mage did not need to be told twice.
A ball of bright orange flame fell into the body pit, covering the corpses, Gordian, and whatever else might be trying to crawl out of it.
Varric added to the chaos by tossing a pitch grenade in after the fireball. The stick substances developed by the Inquisition's Arcanist Dagna caught fire and burned white hot.
The thing that had once been Gordian of the Freemen of the Dales wailed as the fire washed over him. Even an abomination could not stand if it had no body left to stand with. The creature tried one last time to free itself, before sliding back beneath the twisting burning mass of fading undead.
A shiver ran down Ana's spine, all around them undead began to drop, with no necromancer to command them, the dead returned to their final rest, again.
Several cheers went up from the Orlesians while the more seasoned Inquisition troops dealt with any Freemen stragglers. Most threw down their swords, but a few chose to fight to the death.
The Orlesians who had been plagued for weeks by Gordian's foul creations were more than happy to grant their wish.
The sight did not please the Inquisitor, but she did nothing to stop it.
Whether they realized it or not, the Freemen were helping Corypheus in his bid to destroy the south in his mad bid to restore the Imperium as he thought it should be…
Ana sighed.
She would be damned before she let that bastard destroy this world. She would be damned before she let him complete his mad schemes.
She stood before the flames watching as the undead inside finally succumbed to the flames and the heat.
Dorian and Varric came up beside her.
"You okay, Kiddo," the dwarf asked.
"Yes," she said shaking her head, "I…I just…"
She laughed bitterly.
"I just wish this war was over."
Varric took her free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"It will be Kiddo, just keep doing what you are doing."
Dorian chuckled.
"Look at the bright side Ana dear," he said, "At least we saved the world from Gordian's horrible fake accent."
She gave the Tevinter an arched look. He smiled grandly.
She snorted with amusement.
"You can be a real idiot sometimes Dorian," she said, "You know that right?"
The Tevinter gave her a pained look.
"Inquisitor, I…I am truly hurt, I will have you know that I got the highest marks from my instructors back in the circle. I can provide you with evidence if you would like? It is all quite impressive. It needed to be, the Imperium being what it is."
The Inquisitor shook her head, chuckling with amusement.
Trust Dorian to lighten the mood. That had been her job once, but she had lost some of that cheeriness since Haven.
Sometimes, being Inquisitor, it was far too serious for her tastes, but what else could she do?
She had the mark after all.
Ana turned.
"Let's get out of here boys," she said.
Varric grinned.
"Right behind you, Boss," he said gamely.
The Inquisitor was still shaking her head.
"I'm friends with idiots," she chuckled.
"Are you sure you don't want to see, my circle credentials, Ana?" Dorian said, "I'm sure you will not be disappointed. I could even write my mother. You said I should try to reconnect with my parents, they would be proud, to list my accomplishments, at least, I think that they would. They are…"
"Come on Sparkler," Varric called over his shoulder.
"We still have work to do."
The Tevinter gave the body pit one last look.
He made a rude face.
"At least we don't have to listen to that horrible accent anymore," he said, "I mean, seriously, who talks like that? Zis weel be our day. We will be remembaired…"
"Sparkler?"
"Coming," Dorian shouted rushing to catch up. Several Inquisitions soldiers chuckled as he passed by.
"I'm coming."