Author's Note: Thanks to everyone taking the time to comment! Originally, this chapter was two, but I figured why have two short chapters when I could unleash one enormous chapter on you all? Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 53 - The Ruined Temple of Andraste
Good to his word, Brother Genitivi led Serena and the rest of her companions up another hill to the mountainside. Nearing it, she saw the tunnel carved into the great peak's side. Inside, it was etched with low-relief sculptures of Andraste; starting from her rise as a lowly slave in Ferelden to savior and Bride of the Maker, and finally her betrayal.
Serena found herself entranced by the carvings; the life of Andraste had always inspired her... that a woman, one woman, could affect so many... That she could encourage so many people to stand up for themselves, to join her in rebellion...
"Andraste led them; the barbarians, the Alamarri, against the might of the Imperium in what was to become the first Exalted March." Leliana's voice was quiet beside Serena, her hand going to the relief sculpture, lightly touching the praying figure of Andraste.
"Sometimes I think perhaps our mission... to build an army, to defeat the Blight... it is what the Maker wills, as She led the Her people to take back their freedom, it is our duty to lead them now... to take back their land."
"I can only pray we have half Her courage when the time comes," Serena replied, smiling sadly. They turned away from the engravings, heading up the stone steps to where the Chantry scholar was pointing something out to Alistair.
"This is it, yes," Genitivi said, coming to stand at the enormous door. "Give me the medallion, and let's see if I remember." Alistair silently handed him the large metal sphere, and watched as the man set it into a depressed section of the door. "Yes... you see, it can be manipulated, just like this..."
There was a loud thump, and a series of clicks could be heard as the door unlocked itself. Slowly the doors swung open and Alistair felt Serena at his side, her eyes wide, her hand reaching for his. He gripped it tightly, their gloved fingers intertwining, and took in the vast chamber that laid before them.
Genitivi stepped in first, his face looking nothing short of awed. "What I would give to have seen this hall in all its splendor, as it was meant to be... Still, sweep away the ice and the snow, and traces of beauty remain."
"I can't believe all this is still standing," Leliana murmured to Zevran. "This temple must be thousands of years old."
More carvings covered the walls inside the temple, and Serena watched as Genitivi drifted towards them, still limping heavily. "These carvings were created just after Andraste's death, and they may reveal things about Her life that we do not yet know... I think I need more time to study these statues and carvings..." He turned back to Serena and the others. "I could not keep up with you with my injuries, anyway. I shall stay here, if you don't mind too terribly much."
"I..." Serena glanced around at her companions, her eyes landing on Peanut. "My hound will stay with you, Genitivi. He's a better soldier than I am, certainly, so he should be able to keep you safe." Serena kneeled at Peanut's side, scratching his ears fondly. "You never liked going to chapel much anyway, did you, boy?"
The hound let out a low whine, putting his cold nose to Serena for a moment before he backed up and went to Genitivi's side. "Good boy," Serena said to him. "Guard. I would also suggest closing that door, in case more villagers show up, looking for some sport."
"Of course," Genitivit replied. He put out a hand to Serena, and she took it, shaking it gently. "Go, my lady. I will be all right. Perhaps my destiny was only to lead you to the Urn."
"To which I thank you. A nobleman's life may yet depend on our success."
"Just be careful, that's all I ask." Brother Genitivi peered around, shaking his head. "The temple is... perilous."
"And I thought we'd already hit our quota for death and destruction today," Alistair joked. "Silly me."
The temple, rather unfortunately, had been reclaimed in many areas by the cultists. Unsure of where to go, Serena split them into two groups, heading in opposite directions to scout out the main chamber. Serena's group, which included Sten, Morrigan, and Leliana, moved down the western series of hallways, eventually finding what appeared to be a large library, with more cultists.
Thankfully, they were unarmed, although they didn't stop them from trying to attack with angry fists. Sten dispatched the trio of them rapidly, his sword moving like liquid lightning. Afterwards, he turned to the shelves, glancing at the piles of books the cultists had been reading.
"Oh, so the southern peoples do read. I thought that was a myth."
"You know, Sten, you really find the strangest times to make jokes," Serena remarked.
"Who said I was joking?"
"Not to break up this throughly academic conversation," Morrigan drawled sarcastically. "But I believe I found something rather important." She jingled a large brass key ring in her hand. "'Tis fortunate these villagers leave things simply lying about."
"Maybe we're just lucky?" Leliana suggested.
"Lovely how all our luck seems to be used up on finding old keys and armor, and never on... say... avoiding darkspawn or broken limbs..." Serena rolled her eyes. "Let's find the others. And perhaps whatever these keys unlock."
Upon returning to the main chamber, they found Alistair and the others waiting for them, a few books and scrolls in hand.
"We found these," Alistair said, handing a few to Serena. "There's bits about the Old Gods, the first Blight... I thought they might be useful, maybe." She held them lightly, the binding was ripped in a few places. Taking a cloth from her pack, she wrapped the books carefully and placed them in her pack.
"I still haven't had the chance to go through Dun- through the Warden things we found," Serena added. "I guess we'll have a bit of light reading to do over the next few days, hmm? Assuming we survive this, of course."
Alistair smiled crookedly. "Which knowing us, isn't likely."
Serena clapped a hand on his back, leading the group up a long staircase. "That's my boy, always so optimistic."
"I do my best, love," the blonde replied.
Serena's arm was on fire.
Well, her glove and gauntlet, technically, were on fire, but the distinction was clearly lost on her as she ran about the room shrieking and waving her arms. Morrigan bit back a laugh as she pushed out with her hand and mind, a cone of icy cold was quickly enveloping Serena's flailing arm, extinguishing the flames.
"'Twas only a bit of fire, Serena," Morrigan called.
"But it was fire! My arm is... was... it was on fire!" The brunette ripped off her gauntlet, inspecting the skin there carefully with wide eyes. Of course, the templar was beside her immediately, and Morrigan couldn't help her eyes from rolling. The two Wardens were nigh inseparable these days, and while Morrigan could not figure out what Serena saw in the fool, she let it slide without comment.
Saddling up to the two, Morrigan glanced at Serena's wrist. "Your skin, I trust, is fine?"
"Yes, barely," Serena mumbled, her normally pale cheeks flaming red. "I thought Leliana said those were ash wraiths, though."
"'Tis true," Morrigan replied.
"Then why in the Maker's name did they set my bloody arm on fire?"
Morrigan sighed, trying her best to be patient. It was not a skill that came easily to her. "Supposedly, they are shades, a type of spirit from the Fade, that choose to form their bodies out of ashes. I know not why they choose fire, but 'tis my guess that since fire creates ash, perhaps 'tis all the shade is able to control."
Serena nodded, her eyes still on her arm as she reluctantly pulled the leather gauntlet back on, rubbing at the charred bits. She was still grumbling as she led the way into the next room, where a series of statues stared down plaintively at them.
"This is Maferath, husband of Andraste and her betrayer." Zevran glanced up at the huge figure before turning to see Leliana's astonished face. "What? I went to the chantry as a child."
Morrigan rolled her eyes as the red haired bard pointed to another figure. "They say that Archon Hessarian heard the voice of the Maker as Andraste was burning, and this is why he chose to end Her suffering. That is why the sword is a symbol of Mercy."
"More religious figures? Are we to be taught the entire history of Andraste, now?" The dark haired witch huffed.
"This is Her temple, afterall," Alistair muttered, passing by her. "Did you really think you'd be able to get through it without learning anything?"
"To learn this drivel implies 'tis knowledge worth knowing," Morrigan snapped back. "'Tis not."
"Believe whatever you want," Serena said quietly, "but do it silently, please. I'll not have you blaspheme in my presence, Morrigan. To some of us, this means a great deal." She pulled out the brass key ring and went to work on the door, although Morrigan was positive Serena could feel the glare she shot her through her armor. Beside Serena, Alistair grinned, obviously relishing the witch's momentary shame.
Beyond the door, the temple abruptly ended, devolving into a series of tunnels, much like the ones they'd used to enter the mountainside. There, they battled more deranged cultists, hell-bent on protecting the ashes of their dead prophet.
Supposed prophet, Morrigan corrected herself silently. Though after Serena's whispered admonishment, she had kept her word, not speaking any of her thoughts aloud of their... religion... again.
Unlike the temple, the caverns were infested with very small dragons, which Flemeth had told her were referred to as dragonlings. Barely rising above her waist, Morrigan found the beasts almost endearing, until one snapped at her with poisonous jaws.
Knocking it back with a crack from her staff, Morrigan sent the tiny dragon flying backwards with a blast of fire from her hand.
"Pity you chose to try to bite, fiend," she called to the flaming corpse. She turned to Serena, shrugging. "I could see myself keeping these as pets."
Serena laughed, wiping blood from her daggers. "And to think I thought I was special having a war-hound."
Further along in the underground chambers, they discovered an area where larger dragons were kept, these ones as long as the qunari was tall, and infinitely more vicious. These were drakes, Flemeth would have told her, the mating males kept for a high dragon. Nearby, bunks were stacked in a corner opposite the cages, the occupants of which ran at them, swinging staffs and swords alike. It would appear as if these cultists were raising the dragons... breeding them, in fact.
"For Andraste!" one shouted as Morrigan twisted out of his grip, putting her hand to his face. There was the sizzling sound of something baking and then the man was screaming in pain and terror, clutching his face in his hands.
"Your prophet shall not help you now," Morrigan sneered as the man took a few steps, still screeching about his ruined face. Stumbling about until he reached a group of his fellows, he clutched at one woman helplessly as he promptly exploded into bits. Around him, the cultists were screaming, the man's insides covering them from head to toe.
"I would back away, were I you, Serena..." the witch called. The companions glanced at one another before moving away from the cultists, who had begun to scream and quake in much the same way as the first man.
"What did you do?" Serena cried as one of the villagers dropped to their knees, the man's body shaking wildly as Morrigan's spell worked its way into his skin.
"'Tis a spell my mother taught me, in case I was ever... overwhelmed." The witch's golden eyes flicked to the group again, and there was a burst of red as the cluster of villagers blasted apart before them.
"Sweet Maker! They've all... exploded!"
Morrigan smirked at Serena's astonished face. "Flemeth called the spell 'Walking Bomb'."
"I believe we are headed up, towards the surface of the mountains." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Morrigan turned, flinging out a hand to stop the oncoming drake. The fiend froze solid as Sten moved forward, his great sword slamming into the side of the creature, cracking it to bits.
Frowning at being caught off-guard, Morrigan stomped angrily as she engaged the next dragon, this one a bit larger than the previous, calling her magic to her as she pressed a fireball into it's mouth, which it deftly blocked, coming at her again.
Some sort of surprise must have registered on her face as she fought the beast, for Alistair moved towards her then, pivoting on his heel to engage the dragon himself. His sword sliced clean through the neck of the thing, the dragon's head falling onto the floor with a thick-sounding plop.
Wiping his sword clean of its blood, the warrior flashed her another grin. It was the sly, triumphant smile of someone who just won a point in an imaginary argument, one Morrigan found she did not like at all.
"Have a care where your eyes linger, Alistair."
The blonde arched an eyebrow at her, his grin widening. "Ha, yes, well... don't worry. It's not what you think."
"What then?" the dark haired witch snapped, her patience spent.
"Oh, nothing," Alistair replied, still grinning like a fool. "I was just thinking how when you scrunch your face like that, your nose... well, nevermind."
"And what? What is it about my nose that captivates you so?"
"I was just thinking that it looks exactly... like how your mother's did. Especially when you frown."
Morrigan heard Serena snort, but wisely the girl kept walking, not acknowledging the conversation openly but for a quick glance in the fool templar's direction. Oh, so they found this funny did they? Two could play this game.
Keeping pace beside the tall blonde, Morrigan raised her voice slightly, so their leader would be able to hear her clearly. "I do wonder, Alistair, is it permissible for two Grey Wardens to... oh, what is the word I search for?"
"Caboodle?"
"Fraternize," Morrigan clarified, her own eyebrow arching up.
"Oh ho, this should be good." Alistair laughed, his honey eyes flipping quickly to Serena and back. "Tell me, Morrigan... What's wrong with fraternizing?"
"It seems most... undisciplined. For an organization that claims it will do whatever is necessary to end the darkspawn threat..." Morrigan could see Serena had gone stiff in front of them, her head turned slightly. So she was listening, the witch thought maliciously. Good. The witch grinned inwardly, still burning from their brunette leader's earlier rebuke.
"One thing has nothing to do with the other," Alistair said tensely, running a hand through his hair.
"Oh no?" Morrigan spun her staff in her hand, enjoying the templars sudden unease. "And what if a Grey Warden was forced to choose... between the Warden he loved and ending the Blight? What should his choice be?"
"That is a... a ridiculous question," Alistair stammered. He glanced again at Serena's back, his eyes dark.
"And I have my answer. Most kind of you." With a flick of her wrist, the witch sauntered off, a satisfied smile on her lips.
"If there is anyone in charge of these cultists, we have not met them yet." Zevran's voice was unusually quiet, and it made Serena pause, her eyes flicking over to where the assassin stood leaning against the cavern's wall.
"What makes you say that?" Serena asked.
The caves were vast, much more complex than Serena had anticipated. They were taking turns crawling through a particularly tight split in the rock, as Morrigan had already gone through in her wolf form, scouting ahead to make sure they were going the right way. Alistair and Wynne stood on the other side, waiting for the rest of them.
"The ones we have come across so far, and even those tending the... eggs... they are mindless, almost. Pawns to be used and thrown away." Zevran held out a hand, indicating Leliana should go ahead of him. He paused, watching the bard's backside appreciatively as she scrambled through the crevasse. "Believe me, my dear, when I say I know a thing or two about being used."
Serena arched an eyebrow at the assassin, smirking. "And with your charms, here I thought you would be the one doing all the using."
"Usually, this is true," Zevran agreed, smiling faintly. "I am speaking of my time with the Crows, however. Whoever is leading these cultists... he is a puppet master of some charm, at least."
Serena nodded, her eyes clouded with thought. "You don't really consider yourself one anymore, do you? A Crow?"
"I am not sure, honestly. My life has taken quite the dramatic turn in the past few weeks, no?" The blonde shrugged, moving away from the wall and coming to stand beside Serena as Sten pushed his way through the opening now. "I do not think I ever properly thanked you, either, for sparing my life," he said in a low voice.
"You didn't have to," Serena replied.
"May I ask why you did so? It wasn't my dashing good looks, was it?"
"No, I... well... I like to think the Maker gave me a second chance, that night in the castle. I should have died there, with the rest of my family. I deserved to die there. But I didn't." Serena glanced quickly at the elf's face before looking away and shrugging. "Besides, maybe I like having people owe me blood debts."
"That must be it, then," the assassin said with another small, almost knowing smile. With a flourish of his hand, he waved Serena on. "After you, my dear."
Beyond the tight fissure, it appeared as if more twisting passageways greeted them. Everyone was beginning to look restless by the time Morrigan returned to them. Changing back into her human form in mid-stride, Serena found herself staring openly as the dark patches of fur became flesh and fabric once again. Despite the many times Serena had seen the dark haired witch change into various forms, it didn't seem to matter, the magic always astounded her.
"Just ahead, I believe," Morrigan was saying. "We are nearly to the surface, there is but one more large chamber." Shooting a quick look at Serena, she grinned. "No dragons, just men."
"You seem disappointed," Serena teased.
The witch shrugged. "The dragons have jewelry sometimes. The men... do not."
"She has a point," Leliana conceded, grinning. Serena rolled her eyes at the two women, leading the group into the chamber Morrigan had indicated. Stalactites tapered down from the ceiling like fat spearheads, ready to skewer them all.
"Halt, intruders."
A bearded man stepped out of the shadows of the cavern, a great sword sliding from the sheath at his back. Two fellows, equally clad in heavy plate mail armor, were flanking him on either side. A few shadows lingered in corners of chamber and Serena found herself counting in her head. Seven? No. Eight of them.
The older man peered at the group of them, his dark eyes narrowed as he took in the blood splattered across Serena's leathers. "I am Father Kolgrim, leader and guide to the Disciples of Andraste. Tell me why you have come here, covered in the blood of the faithful." He pointed a finger at Serena, his voice quiet and deadly. "Kill us, and you will face Andraste. She will smell our blood and the blood of her children on you, and Her wrath will be great."
"Oh, wonderful. More crazy," Serena murmured. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she put a hand on her daggers, as if trying to pull some sort of restraint from the blades themselves. "What in the realm are you talking about?"
"Andraste is... wait. Are you talking about the dragons?" Leliana's voice was tinged with disgust. "Is your Andraste a dragon?"
"She is so much more than that!" Kolgrim cried. "She is even more glorious than all the Old Gods combined!"
"Right, so, you're a lunatic," Alistair scoffed, a hand running through his blonde hair and coming to rest on his sword hilt.
"The prophet Andraste has overcome death itself and has returned to Her faithful in a form more radiant than you can imagine!" Kolgrim raised his arms, as if the cave itself was going to shed some of his glorious dragon light on him right then. "Not even the Tevinter Imperium could hope to slay Her now. What hope do you have?"
Beside Serena, Sten's voice was barely a whisper. "Tell me we can kill him now."
"Not yet," Serena murmured. Raising her voice, she turned back to the cultist leader. "If Andraste is a dragon now..." She resisted the urge to push more sarcasm into her tone. "...What happened to the Ashes?"
"They are still within the temple, but why do we need ashes when we serve the risen Andraste in all Her glory? What are they but the remains of a mortal woman?"
"Then I suppose you won't mind if we take them off your hands." Serena eyed the man warily. It had been such a long day already, and this man's crazy blasphemy was really starting to grade on her.
"So you are after the Ashes then? Perhaps there is a way for you to make up for your desecration of our home and temple." Kolgrim exchanged a look with one of his fellows and Serena felt a twist of unease settle in her stomach. "Perhaps through Andraste's mercy, Her greatest enemy will become her greatest champion."
"I highly doubt that," Serena muttered, her hand still on her dagger. Louder, she spoke to the man. "Just say whatever it is you have to say."
"The Ashes you seek reside atop this mountain, watched by an immortal guardian," one of Kolgrim's henchmen replied. "A guardian who refuses to accept the truth of the rise Lady!"
"Now the Ashes prevent holy Andraste from fully realizing Her new form," Kolgrim added. "They are a remnant of Her past incarnation, and She cannot move on as long as they exist. The guardian blocks us from the Ashes themselves, but you! You could do this!" The man fumbled in his pockets, pulling out a small vial. "Pour this in the Ashes and-"
"No! He wants us to defile the Ashes!" Leliana grabbed Serena's arm, whispering fervently. "These people are... are heretics!"
Serena shook Leliana off and took the vial from the now-smiling Father Kolgrim. She could hear Leliana's whimper of outrage behind her as she eyed the contents. Blood, it looked like.
"Serena, tell me you aren't thinking of doing this." Alistair's voice was fierce at her back, his hand clutching her arm tightly.
"I knew you would see reason, young lady-" Kolgrim began.
"Oops!" With a savage grin, Serena hurled the vial of blood as hard as she could at the man's feet. The blood splattered across the rocks and his shoes, looking dark and sludgy. She saw the shadow of rage cross the man's face as he raised his sword.
"They shall cry out to their false gods, And find silence," Leliana intoned beside her, her bow already nocked with an arrow.
Serena pulled her daggers, and heard the sounds of metal leaving its sheaths around her. "I would see you dead before I would destroy Her legacy."
"Ignorant girl!" Kolgrim spat. "You are all fools, and you shall die like fools! Andraste revealed Herself to us alone! To arms, my brethren! May She grant us victory!" With a bellow, he ran at Serena.
The battle was over quickly.
"Perhaps their risen Andraste was taking a nap?" Zevran suggested, rifling through the belongings of the fallen combatants. "She did not appear to grant them any special prowess in battle, anyway." He pulled out a large blow horn on a thick leather strap. "This is... hmm. I do not know what this is, actually."
"It has the symbol of the Chantry on it," Leliana said, kneeling down beside the assassin. "Well, it's been... scratched... and… it is upside down?" She shook her head sadly. "These people..."
"Foolish man's lucky I don't defile his bloody ashes..." Serena cursed, kicking at the cult leader's body. "Let's just get going. He said the Ashes were at the top of the mountain." Picking up her pack, she headed for the back of cavern, where light was spilling in.
Despite the cold, the sunlight was a welcome relief after spending what felt like hours in the darkened tunnels and temple ruins.
"There!" Alistair pointed beyond the crumbling bridge they were on to a great door, where two enormous statues of Andraste stood on either side. "That must be it, right?"
"It has to be-" Serena began excitedly, nearly skipping across the bridge in glee. Not even ten paces across did they all stop, a vast shadow was flying above, covering the bridge, moving steadily closer. Serena felt her jaw drop open as she stared up into the sky.
It was a dragon. Massive. Deadly. And it was heading right... for... them.
Hustling from the bridge, they quickly found cover concealed behind a group of fallen pillars. Serena felt edgy, filled with tension at the sight of the huge scaly beast. The dragon had circled the mountaintop, streaming fire from its mouth and burning the snow from the ground before it landed on a ledge overlooking the area right between them and the door to the temple.
"That is a High Dragon? It is... much bigger than I had thought." Zevran was alternating between looking at the great beast and checking his pack for bombs. "We're not planning on... actually fighting it, are we? Couldn't we just... sneak around it?"
"How do you suppose we sneak seven people past... that?" Serena murmured. She was peeking over the side of the pillar, her eyes stubbornly refusing to leave the dragon's form. Its eyes gazed down from above, ever watchful from its perch. There was no way that thing would just let them waltz by.
"Carefully?" the assassin suggested. "Quietly? We could cover ourselves in snow and pretend to be... rocks. Rocks that walk." He glanced at Sten. "Big rocks."
"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard," Sten said. "And you have said many stupid things, elf."
Zevran grinned. "Perhaps our dear Qunari friend should stay here then if he doesn't wish to be a rock? He is a bit conspicuous after all, what with his vicious death glares and pointed remarks."
"I'm not leaving anyone behind with that... thing," Serena replied. "Although I'm certain you're scary enough to keep it at bay, Sten." The qunari simply grunted in response, his eyes rolling at the both of them.
Leliana was rubbing a powder on the tips of her arrows, her blue eyes intense. "Even if we got in the door in one piece, who is to say we could get out again without facing it?" When she finished with hers, she reached into the quiver on Serena's back, pulling out her arrows. "They should freeze on contact, if I mixed the powder correctly."
"And if you didn't?" the blonde assassin prompted.
"Then they may explode," Leliana replied, rubbing the powder onto Serena's arrows anyway.
"If that's the dragon those cultists think is Andraste... I don't think I can just leave it here." Serena turned, sliding down the pillar to sit beside Alistair on the ground. "Kolgrim could be just the beginning. Surely one of those nutters would make it up here and restart the whole damn thing again."
"'Twould seem we are planning on attacking a high dragon because of... religious reasons," Morrigan drawled, her eyebrows knitting together.
"No, that's just a bonus, really," Serena said, replacing the arrows carefully in her quiver. "It also happens to be in the way of the Ashes." She glanced up at the witch, smirking. "Imagine the kind of jewelry that thing has."
Morrigan rolled her golden eyes. "Oh yes, Serena. I'm sure it has some lovely pearls dangling from its twenty-foot-long neck."
"I'm pretty sure trying to sneak past it will end up getting us caught by it, anyway." Serena glanced around at the group, silently willing them to argue with her logic. "I don't want anyone getting eaten. Better to simply engage it on our own terms, no?"
"I agree with the Warden," Sten said unexpectedly. His red eyes turned to glare at the dragon. "I doubt it even knows we are here, currently. There are seven of us. We could overpower it."
Alistair glanced over the pillar at the dragon, his face drawn into tense lines. "We've come this far. That Kolgrim fellow said the Ashes are in that temple." He shrugged. "It would be a waste to go back now. We may be the Arl's only chance."
Wynne pulled a vial of lyrium from her belt pouch and knocked it back, a grimace crossing her face. "Well, I'm not afraid of it." At the other's surprised looks, Wynne laughed, poking a finger at her arm. "It wouldn't eat me anyhow. I'm old. Tough and stringy." She nodded to Alistair. "You, on the other hand... you ought to be worried."
Ignoring their banter, Serena reached out with her mind, touching the dragon with her senses as delicately as she could manage. Its thoughts were clearer than other animals she had connected with, more coherent, almost like when Serena spoke with her mabari. Realizing they had the advantage, she pulled one of the arrows from her quiver and nocked it into her bow.
"What are you doing?" Alistair asked. His honey eyes were frozen on her arrow, his hand on Maric's sword.
"I want her down here." Serena glanced at the others. "Sten is right. We could overpower her, but not from that ledge. We get her down here, and it's all over."
"Maker, I hope you know what you're doing."
Serena pulled back her bow as far as it would go, aiming the arrow at the high dragon. "Me, too."
Easily forty feet long and taller than the statues of Andraste that lined the temple's doors, the high dragon was thousands of pounds of pure muscle, and it was angry.
"She really reminds me of a noble woman I used to know!" Zevran called, rolling one of his bombs under the belly of the creature. It exploded with a great rush of energy and the dragon screamed, expelling a stream of fire straight up into the air. The assassin raced from the dragon's side, rolling out of the way of the fire. "Hmm. She did that, too, oddly enough."
Serena had split from Leliana, each shooting arrows from opposite sides, attempting to confuse the dragon. Small pockets of freezing ice covered the dragon's hide, hindering its movements just enough that Alistair and Sten were able to move in and stab it.
Sten's great sword dug deep into the beast's side as he jumped high and stabbed, dragging the sword down with him. Blood gushed from the substantial wound and the dragon roared its displeasure, kicking one of its legs out to push the qunari away. It missed, and Sten took the opportunity to slice into the dragon's foot with his sword as more blood splattered across his front.
Wynne stood inside the ruins, casting healing spells as the dragon stomped about in pain, knocking everyone near it to the ground. Serena felt the cool wave of magic rush over her as she tried to steady herself, her various cuts healing themselves. Serena silently thanked the Maker for creating mages with the power to heal.
"We need to stun it!" Serena shouted, prepping another arrow. "Aim for its eyes!"
Suddenly Morrigan was beside her, a ball of lightning building in her hands. "The base of the skull is the quickest! Use a blade!" the witch called. The lightning flew from her hands and slammed into the face of the dragon as it roared in rage, its head swaying back and forth, dazed for the moment.
There was another bellow of fury, and Serena saw Alistair slam his shield into the dragon's front leg, knocking the creature's feet out from under it. The ground shook again as the high dragon hit the dirt, knocking everyone about. Leliana shrieked while Zevran pulled her back, the dragon was letting out a blast of sparks and smoke from its mouth.
Tossing her bow aside, Serena sprinted for the neck of the dragon at full speed. Alistair was already there, his shield crashing into the dragon's neck, paralyzing it for a moment. Seeing Serena, he stuck his sword in the beast and grabbed her hand, pushing her up onto the dragon's neck.
"Do it!" he yelled.
Grabbing her daggers, she shoved them deep into the neck of the dragon as it jerked beneath her in annoyance. The blades barely made a dent in the dragon's hide, it was so thick. Cursing, she held on tightly as the creature tried to lift its head again, desperate to shake her off. There was a great rush of air and Serena realized the dragon was trying to get up, to fly away, and with her on its back!
"Serena!" Alistair was below, shouting, Duncan's sword now in his hand as the dragon pushed off from the ground, Serena clinging frantically to one of its huge twisting horns. Alistair looked like he wanted to fling the sword at the dragon in an effort to keep it on the ground.
"Oh, Maker-" She felt the dragon twitch again as it tried to fly with it's damaged wing. Grasping about, Serena yanked one of the daggers the dragon's head, as the beast shook and tossed her about, Serena's lower body felt like it was flapping like a banner in the wind.
The dragon twisted in outrage as another bolt of lightning hit it, and Serena's foot slid, catching on Maric's blade. Serena screamed as the blade cut into her leg and the dragon continued flailing about, wings flapping hard enough to keep the other's away. With another scream, Serena reached out, pulling the dwarven sword from the dragon's neck as she heard a crack in her chest, her leg shooting pain from the sword cut.
"Maker have mercy," she whispered and she dug the sword deep into the dragon's skull, using every ounce of energy she had left. There was a great roar and then the dragon was falling, taking her with it. Holding on to its horn and Maric's sword for dear life, Serena felt her entire body burn with exhaustion as the creature hit the ground hard, rumbling the earth around them.
Hands were on her then; pulling her from the dragon, lifting her down gently. Her body felt like one big bruise, her leg was bleeding profusely, and she was positive at least a few of her ribs were broken, making it near impossible to catch her breath.
There were voices around her, murmuring quietly about her injuries, about the dragon, about the temple. "What now?" they asked. Should they set camp? Rest? Keep moving? Could someone carry her? Should they lift her with that injury to her leg...
But Serena's eyes were already closing; her energy was gone, drained completely from that last bout with the high dragon. She felt the chilly touch of Wynne's healing magic and then nothing at all as she passed out in Alistair's arms.