Northern Orlais-9:39 Dragon
Knight-Captain Marcus Durnham sat in the stirrup of his horse, as he, and his three companions slowly traveling North West along a river in the Orlesian farmland. They were hunting for a rumored apostate. A single mage, so reports indicated, though he may've been traveling towards Nevarra. So the reports indicated.
The day was pleasant, though, the transition between the seasons was soon settling on the South. There was a cold bite to the air as the wind buffeted around them as he was sitting in the saddle. Though the pleasantness of the day belied their mission, and indeed the entire situation swirling around the Chantry. His master, his bosses. The people he swore to serve in life and in death.
Talk of rebellion was rolling on the wind. The Kirkwall Chantry was destroyed, the College of Enchanters were dissolved, and the Circles were positively buzzing with rumor and innuendo. Things were tense. One wrong move on either side could send all of Thedas, entire countries, into war.
Not that I want that. The Knight-Captain frowned to himself.
He, personally, did not know what to believe or whose side to take. Ever since his promotion to Knight-Captain the previous year he had seen much of life. Gotten a new perspective, a sea change as it were. Talking with the mages. Senior Enchanters and First Enchanters alike. They were desperate. And Durnham knew what he would feel if someone had silenced his voice and ability to seek his own solution.
And, aside from their magic their voice was all they had. If they had to rely on the former…if it was the only weapon left to them…
Why I am conflicted. Mages could do terrible damage. Worse, if they were possessed they could do terrible damage.
All of this was basic information that even the commonest of commoners would know, but, it was the center of the debate. The need for a Templar, what defined him, his duty, and his life?
How much freedom do you give people? How much rope is too much? When does the risk to people's lives become too much to bear?
Maybe the answers are somewhere up ahead.
"Come on Marcus, we need to pick up the pace a little. Oh don't look at me like that." His XO said, and then smiled at him teasingly.
He arched his eyebrow and gave her a look, a weary one.
His three person team, was certainly…unique…in the annals of the Templar Order. Assembled just for this mission, though this was not Marcus's first time working with the three of them. Certainly not his second in command.
Melissa Depp was the person in question. She was the longest known member of his companions…and the closest. They served together in two Circles, and several independent assignments both in long term and in short term circumstances. They had formed an equitable, though mostly personal relationship. Though occasionally I do wonder if we can be more.
Andrew was his archer, just…Andrew, the newest member of his band the one who he knew the least about…but, he seemed to be a capable hunter. With the rank of Knight-Lieutenant, able to track apostates. Marcus viewed him as the last option he had, that bit of flexibility, in a tense series of negotiations. He could shoot straighter then many in the order that Marcus had run into.
Finally, Thorrick, the Dwarf. While Dwarves were not exactly forbidden in the Templar Order, after all they had a natural resistance to magic which would have made them invaluable Knights…they were not enough of them to ever justify the expenditure truly. They were a rare sight, and he had one of the few Dwarves now under his command. Brash, laid back, and quite able to swing axe or sword.
Another welcome companion should things go wrong.
Finally, remembering what Melissa asked him he smiled crookedly at her. "I am just enjoying the travel…and the company."
Thorrick snorted "Ha, if you were enjoying the company you would think you would be chattier…instead you look like a great big broody pants."
"Sorry, thinking about…things."
"Ah yes, things." The Dwarf deadpanned.
Marcus sighed. "The tension of the events back in the Circles, the Cities. Kirkwall burns, and if we make one wrong move then they may not be the only ones. All the work the Chantry has built over the centuries stands upon the precipice, of great change."
"You really think it's that bad?" The Archer said, looking nervously at Marcus.
Melissa dismissed it, "things will calm down. The mages gain nothing from rebellion."
"Then they are just in their cause though?"
Melissa shrugged, "Yes, more than likely it is a just cause but, no one benefits from rebellion, least of all the mages. All it will do is turn popular sentiment against them, even more than it already is."
"Perhaps you are right," Marcus shrugged in his saddle.
"You doubt me?" Melissa asked with arched eyebrow.
Marcus sighed, "I agree with you, to an extent. But has all the apostates and Maleificarum we hunted down throughout the years prove the contrary? That people are not always smart, and sometimes they are malicious? We are hunting such a person right now. A dangerous mage."
Melissa nodded for a second, but said nothing, instead looking resolutely forward. Seeming to acknowledge the point but not wanting to acknowledge that she was bested in battle.
Marcus watched her for a moment, before shrugging to himself and spurring his horse to further action.
An hour later, they had lunch under a willow tree, giant in its branches, towering over the surrounding countryside, the only real shade for miles and miles. Though, it did not matter to Marcus. He was enjoying the weather just the same.
His lunch was a cold slab of beef spread between two pieces of old bread, old for them even as they were leaving the Circle in Montsimmard.
Maybe we can go back and take on proper provisions at that village we past not too far back. Marcus chewed around his mouthful, before swallowing, then taking a swig from his water flask.
Mellissa came over to him, and sat down, spreading her legs out before her in the grass, allowing Marcus to get a good look at her back. He contemplated her before mouthfuls chewing them slowly, and evenly.
"I am…sorry about earlier." Melissa stated suddenly, still not facing Marcus.
He swallowed hard, "About the argument? You do not need to be sorry for stating your opinion."
"It was wrong…unprofessional, in front of the men."
"I value your insight," Marcus stated lowly, "I want it…and I hope you are right. I do not wish the mage's will rebel against us. We will have to kill them, and they will have to kill us…and no one wants that."
"I don't know…" Melissa mused.
"Now are you the one doubting human nature?" Marcus laughed.
Melissa's eyes grew distant, "before this assignment I went to Verchiel, on my own…visiting an aunt…she is a Chantry Lay Sister. I saw a sign…'the only good mage is a dead mage, let us hunt them down…like dogs.'"
Marcus felt his eyebrow raise.
"Which is why they would be stupid to rebel, the destruction of the Chantry in Kirkwall has reminded people that mages exist, and that they are dangerous…some people are taking that revelation unkindly…while others…."
Marcus snorted, "While others are now wondering what the Templars, as an entire Order, may have done to deserve Anders's scorn."
"It's a mad world, but that is why we serve." Melissa pointed out.
Marcus sighed, "I don't know…sometimes it feels, wrong to serve. It feels awkward."
It was then that Melissa shot him a look, looking puzzled and confused.
Marcus felt he owed her an explanation, "The sacrifices we make to the Templars, in our bodies, minds, souls…our personal lives." He reached out to her.
Melissa froze, watching his hand come ever closer, Marcus did not know why he did this, all of a sudden, what spell or enchantment he was under.
The moment was broken with a rush of wind and a squelching sound.
"Dinner!" Andrew called out hefting a rabbit off the ground…he turned towards them, saw the moment between them, and grunted, "Well, I mean for later."
Melissa smiled at him, and her smile flickered as she looked at Marcus.
They got on the road again a little while later. The sun was still high in the sky, and they still moved and made good time. Soon, the barn which was their next destination towered over the land scape. It looked sturdy, strong, a small fortress in its own right.
Two buildings made up the small farm, a small home for the main people, and a barn. Marcus led his horse over towards the house, while pretending to ignore the barn, though he kept an eye on it out of the corner of his.
The four companions all dismounted from their horses and tied them up along a wooden post in the ground. They whickered nervously.
Marcus, Melissa, and Thorrick all approached the door. Andrew went off to the side, keeping his hand on his bow, and stalking off to the side, his eyes scanning, hunting for any potential threats to them.
The Knight-Captain knocked on the door. The sound sounded hollow, and unimpressive, the door was not quite as sturdy as the rest of the place, Marcus noted. Quickly though, the sound summoned the woman of the house. Her hair gray and wiry. From either age, a life time of work, or both.
"Oh, Templars," She said with a wide, beaming smile, "Come in, come in, what brings you to our home…we are so far away from…anything."
"We are coming to hunt an apostate ma'am," Melissa said crossing the threshold between the outside and the kitchen, following Marcus.
"Ooohh an apostate…let me get you something to drink." The woman said limping off to the side.
Mellissa whipped her head around to glare at Marcus, arching an eyebrow at him as well. The Templar Officer just shrugged his shoulders and proceeded into the kitchen proper.
"Hmmm, now where is my lazy husband, William, William where are you?! William we have guests!"
"Guests you say? Coming dear?" William appeared in the doorway a second or two later, towering over them.
Marcus Durnham looked the man over before sitting down at the small table, while the wife busied herself getting those drinks.
"What do you want? Tea? Bourbon? Or some of the finest local wine…we saved a bottle for special occasions…and a greeting from the Chantry's finest is certainly such an occasion."
The husband harrumphed.
"Oh quiet William." The wife snapped.
"Just tea, will be fine, thanks." Marcus replied, growing increasingly nonplussed.
The wife sighed this time and fetched herself a cooking pot from the cabinet. Marcus waited in silence, for several minutes, out of politeness for his hosts. But, he was too busy scanning the surroundings for any sign of threats. Any sign of…he wasn't sure what.
Finally though the woman set down two saucers in front of them at the table, Thorrick had the decency to look mildly offended by it, but it seemed more like a joke to him than anything and he was taking it with good humor.
The tea itself tasted bitter, though passably so. It wasn't one of the fine artisans that the Order brought in for their Officers at the Circles, just, a home brew made quickly and efficiently for a farming neighborhood.
"So," Marcus finally asked, "have you seen anyone come by here recently? Anyone strange and you did not know?"
"No," The wife bit her lip and looked thoughtful, "no one strange that we've seen."
"That seems…odd." Melissa said.
The old woman shrugged. "We are alone out here, just the few of us, miles away from anything."
"But, isn't one of the towns that serves the local farms just two miles from here? All sorts go there…traders…artisans…travelers…tourists looking for a place to sleep either on their way to Orlais or Ferelden." Thorrick pointed out.
"We certainly haven't seen any apostates around here, if that is what you are asking."
Thorrick had the good sense to not respond, but his eyebrows knitted together.
Melissa watched the woman pass by her with greater concern, waiting till she passed out of ear shot before leaning over to Marcus…just in case.
"Something is wrong here," She mouthed at him.
Marcus nodded his agreement, but there was nothing he could do about it until-
He heard a knocking and banging on the door and turned towards the sound. A smile was spreading on his face, he was looking forward to seeing some good news from Andrew, where he would secure the entire exterior of the farm…he was not looking forward to the alternative.
Instead pure horror met his gaze, Andrew was suspended midair, as if by magic. His eyes were bulging and the veins on his neck were straining as he floated through the door. Marcus's gaze swiveled around…
To see the apostate they were hunting for standing in through the now open door. His staff was raised and glowing a menacing red color.
"I am sorry Knight-Captain, I am still trying to get the hang of this particular…spell." The man said with a menacing smile.
Marcus watched in horror along with Mellissa for a second more, before springing to action. He reached for his sword and tried pulling it from its sheath, the sound of metal against leather let him know his XO had succeeded in drawing her weapon.
Several things happened in very quick order.
The apostate snapped Andrew's neck and grunted as he came forward into the room. The old woman jumped on Thorrick with a savage growl, who was just able to draw his own weapon, and started clawing at him and biting him.
"Get off…get off…GETOFF!" He yelled.
The husband took Melissa and grabbed her around the waist in a surprising bear hug. The woman struggled desperately against her captor. Trying to wiggle her way free.
"I don't want to hurt you." She hissed at him, to no avail.
The apostate then swung into action his staff glowed and then emitted a massive blast of energy, this knocked the old woman and Thorrick hard into the back of the cabin. Blood started pooling from their respective wounds, they were clearly dead.
Marcus took the opportunity, charging forward with shield and sword raised. The apostate raised a magical wall in front of himself and just barely managed to cushion the blow, still, he had to retreat. The Templar swung his sword in a great arc, trying to batter into him. The mage retreated out the door, his staff twirling, Marcus advancing.
The mage shot a blast of fire from his hand, he deflected it with his shield and twisted his head around, and the blast leapt up over him and struck the farmhouse behind him.
Marcus spun around to avoid the house and the mage followed him leaping back on the ball of his foot. He fired more fire. Blast, after blast, after blast. Each time the Templar channeled his power into a magical aura, creating a shield, each time he had to bring it up as it were battered aside by the powerful blood mage's attacks.
He gritted his teeth.
The mage laughed, bringing Marcus a temporary respite, trying to catch his breath, and his wits, the mage seemed to know exactly how much energy to not put into the attacks, to leave Marcus defeated but not dead.
"Is this the strength of the Templar Order? A mighty Knight-Captain no less! One of the mightiest of the Templar Order himself. Gasping for air like a fish. Well, time to die."
The Maleificarum twirled his staff around in one giant arc swinging it around, it started to grow a white hot color, and still Marcus could not gather his energy.
A gout of red hot flame leapt towards it, Marcus closed his eyes, and opened them wide as a savage yell interrupted his thoughts. Melissa charged through the flame, her sword swinging in an arc of its own, cutting through the beam of fire, slicing it apart and rendering it harmless.
She then flailed her fist out summoning a telekinetic blast of energy which knocked the mage back. She went over to Marcus, and offered him a hand.
"Come on, we're not done yet."
He smiled, taking one last gasping breath, suddenly his airways were clear again. He took the hand and she hefted him up.
"Thanks." He muttered.
"No problem," she smiled briefly turning to face the apostate, "now, let's finish this fight."
"Sure, lets." He said hefting his sword and his shield in a defensive posture.
The apostate got up slowly and wiped his bloody nose on the back of his sleeve. "Heh, now we are getting started."
He started swinging his staff around in a blur of fiery energy. He slammed it down and fiery sprang up between the two Templars. Which may actually work to our advantage.
Marcus approached from the right and Melissa advanced on the left. Trying to flank and out maneuver the mage, pen him in between the two forces. But the man raised his staff challenging them, looking as though he weren't intimidated in the least.
Marcus rose his shield and held his sword out, pointing it towards the man. Threatening to scour him alive.
The blood mage twirled his staff around in an arc, not backing down.
The three combatants met in battle. Mellissa swung her great sword down and Marcus swung his shield in intending to pummel the man. He brought up a magical barrier though which negated the attack, and then swung his staff wide going low.
His eyes darted between the two of them, and the Templars advanced boldly. Confident that the surprise was used, they could handle the situation. Confident in their abilities. Confident in their numbers advantage.
But yet, the apostate smiled at them. Smirked really, arrogant, cool, confident, and yet Marcus missed the signs.
At five feet Marcus lunged forward with his sword. The mage spun around, pivoting on the ball of his foot, so Marcus missed him, his staff came down and slammed into his back with magically assisted telekinetic force.
He was knocked aside, landing hard in the dirt, it got in his nose and he coughed. He spun around, struggling to get up, while Melissa also came in, swinging her sword in a great high handed sweep.
The mage swung his staff up battering her aside, and also flinging her to the ground with magic. The mage looked weak, but now Mellissa was also sprawled on the ground, and couldn't move for probably some magical reason.
The apostate grinned, and then flayed his staff out, raising it up…and slamming its blade down right through Melissa's heart. Her eyes flew open, and she coughed…once…twice…as blood started to pour out of her gaping wounds.
"No!" Marcus Screamed. "Melissa!"
The apostate whirled on Marcus, grinning. "Well, I suppose this really wasn't such an easy fight after all."
He unleashed a gout of flame from his staff which caught the Knight-Captain full on in his chest. His armor sizzled and crackled, some of it felt like it was fusing to his skin. He burned.
But the fire stopped, and the mage continued to stalk over to him. Breathing heavily.
"You think this is easy? You think I wanted this? No, you drove us to this, you and your ilk. The Chantry, the mighty Templar Order. You cannot escape the fires that have started here, that started in Kirkwall, we will see the world burn for their sins."
The man towered over him. "With each Templar life I take, I will strike a blow for justice and liberty."
Marcus grinned up at him, this was now a matter of survival, and slashed his sword up, stabbing it high. It pierced the man's heart, he jolted, surprised by the wound, as blood frothed at his mouth. He collapsed over onto his knees, then onto his side, the life slowly going out of his eyes.
Despite the protests in his body, Marcus lifted himself up, his whole body ached. But he had to move on, he had to survive. He looked around his surroundings. The farmhouse was now burning full throttle off in the distance. He could smell the hint of burning flesh, feel the flame licking his face.
He started moving, hobbling over to where Melissa had fallen. She was dead, that was clear by her thousand yard stare. Marcus sighed over her corpse. The battlefield had taken on a desperate air.
He looked around again, checking, burning it into his memory. The senseless slaughter of six people.
There must be a better way. I have to find a better way. I must.