Dragon Age: Revengeance

ACT II

Chapter 16

A group of golems were perched upon a ridge lining the canyon, and were hurling boulders at Morrigan with unerring precision. After being clipped by their projectiles once too often, Morrigan snatched one of the stone giants up in her claws and then looped back around with it. She hurled the captured construct at the rest, causing it to smash into the ridge with enough force to collapse it, sending all of the golems hurtling down into the canyon below.

Solona unleashed a lightning bolt at Trevelyan, but the Inquisitor caught the crackling blast with his lyrium gauntlet, arcing it harmlessly into the ground. He flexed his new appendage and grinned.

"Behold the gift of the goddess Razikale," he said. Solona snorted derisively.

"Yeah, I guess that would be pretty handy. Weren't you dead? I heard you were dead."

He lunged at her, bringing his greatsword Certainty down upon her head. She raised Vigilance in time to catch the attack on her own blade. The weapons sparked from the force of contact.

"Her Holiness revived me," Trevelyan explained. "I am the Herald of Andraste no more. The power of the Old Gods cannot be denied." He pulled his sword back and spun around, attempting to decapitate his opponent with one well-placed sweep. Solona Fade Stepped out of his reach and tossed a fireball into his face. The explosion was swiftly snuffed out, and the Inquisitor was scarcely singed by the magical blast.

"Pathetic," he taunted, sneering at her. "Your paltry magic will have no effect on me." He pointed his sword at her. "Face me like a true warrior!"

"I would, if you were a true warrior," she shot back. "What did that old witch do to you? She must have twisted your mind somehow. There's just no way you'd bow to her otherwise."

Trevelyan thrust his gauntlet towards her, tossing a grappling chain in her direction. It wrapped itself around her sword and he yanked Solona towards his waiting blade. She dematerialised, passing harmlessly through the Inquisitor and his attack. Rematerialising behind him, she sliced Vigilance through the back of his legs, then shoved the tip through his torso, the dragonbone weapon punching clean through his armour as if it were cloth.

"Done and done," she said, pulling her sword free and flicking the blood from the blade, "Too bad for you!"

Trevelyan turned face her, his wounds closing before her very eyes. His own eyes glowed. "Did you really think I would fall so easily?" he said.

Morrigan decided it best to cut off the serpent's head, and so circled around until she located Florianne. She then hit the proverbial deck, flying as close to the canyon ground as possible, bearing down on the Empress with flames streaking from her mouth. To her credit, Florianne wasn't remotely intimidated. She perched her feet up on her horse's back and leapt into the air the instant before Morrigan clamped her jaws down. Tossing a grappling hook, she reeled herself in and landed on the dragon's spine. As Morrigan climbed into the air to try and shake off her unwanted passenger, Florianne drew a pair of poisoned daggers and sank them into Morrigan's flesh.

"Not so fast," she said, clinging on tightly, "It's high time you were grounded." She produced an elemental mine and tossed it to one of Morrigan's wings. The mine latched onto the membrane and released a powerful jolt of lightning, numbing the wing so much that the shapeshifting witch momentarily lost control of it. This was enough for her to tumble out of the air and painfully plough into the ground. Florianne leapt to safety seconds before the crash. Landing lightly on her feet, she proceeded to draw her bow and fire off a signal arrow.

Weighted nets were tossed over the grounded dragon, followed by a dozen knockout bombs. Morrigan was enveloped in a cloud of sleeping powder so dense that it briefly obscured her from sight. As the drug began to take effect, troops rushed in to anchor the nets to the ground. Grinning widely, Florianne approached, stopping before the captured dragon's head.

"Pleasant dreams, my dear," said the Empress, leaning her forearm upon her knee. "When next you wake, you shall be at Aeonar, a prisoner of Her Holiness. She eagerly awaits your thoughts."

Trevelyan was finding Solona difficult to pin down, as she eschewed armour, favouring speed and magic over plate protection. Growing frustrated, he levitated a number of ballista bolts, telekinetically hurling them in her direction with a sharp gesture. Solona hastily conjured a wall of ice, causing the bolts to slam into that rather than her. She then Fade Stepped through the wall and unleashed a flurry of lightning quick blows with Vigilance, throwing Trevelyan off guard. He staggered back under the onslaught, dropping to one knee as he blocked blow after blow. Despite her scrawny build, Solona employed Combat Magic to empower her strength and reflexes, causing each swing of her sword to strike with the force of an enraged ogre.

"Nice try, but you're really no match for me," she said, her breathing nevertheless taxed. She pinned his sword arm in place and prepared to sever the limb entirely. "Fun time is over!"

It was then that Florianne shot her in the knee. Seizing upon this distraction, Trevelyan slammed his fist into the Warden's face, sending her reeling back.

"Oooh, spinning..." She stumbled, her wounded knee giving way. "Hey, no fair! I thought this was supposed to be a one-on-one fight?"

The Inquisitor kicked her to the ground and brandished Certainty. "Not quite," he replied. "A warden should know the difference between honour and victory."

As he prepared to deliver the coup de grâce upon the Hero of Ferelden, he was interrupted by a shield slamming into his breastplate. There was a glowing glyph of repulsion upon it, which shoved Trevelyan back with such force that his boots gouged holes in the ground. The shield rebounded and flew back to its owner, who caught it with ease.

"She's right," said Andraste, "Two-on-one isn't fair. Let me even the odds a little."

As everyone present was beyond stunned to see the Prophet Andraste herself appear before them, Andraste took advantage of this to snatch up Vigilance, which Solona had dropped. She ran at the Inquisitor and slid underneath his clumsy sword swing. Her own swing was far from clumsy, and took his leg off at the knee. As she sprang up she then effortlessly separated his head from his shoulders, not even sparing him a glance as she turned away. His severed head rolled to a stop against Solona's foot.

"Am I dreaming?" asked the Warden, "Did I fall asleep in the middle of a fight?"

Andraste smirked. "If you did, you better hurry and wake up, otherwise you'll miss all the fun."

Florianne finally got over her shock and signalled for a nearby squad of crossbowmen to fire upon the pair. Seeing crossbows raised in her direction, Andraste threw her shield again. It arced through the air, striking each soldier in turn, sending them flying. Florianne took aim with her bow and loosed an arrow at the Prophet, who effortlessly caught it and snapped it like a twig. She summoned her shield back to her grasp, then pointed Vigilance at the Empress.

"I just came back from the dead, and I am pissed," said Andraste, "You really want to do this?"

Stunned, Florianne held up her hand and signalled her troops to retreat. "I got what I came for," she said. "I don't know what kind of trick this is, but I shall deal with you later."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't forget your 'champion'." Andraste kicked Inquisitor Trevelyan's head in her direction, and watched as the Empress of Orlais departed with her still sizeable army. Once she was certain they were leaving, Andraste offered Solona a hand up.

"T-Thanks for the help," Solona said, faintly amazed, "Not that I needed it, of course. I had them right where I wanted them."

Andraste smiled, knowing from her tone that she was only joking. "Oh, for sure. Nice sword you have." She hefted Vigilance, admiring the craftsmanship. Solona stared at her in awe.

"Keep it. You handle it better than I ever did." She swallowed. "Umm, pardon me for asking, but are you...?"

"Hmm? Am I what?"

"You ... you look an awful lot like ... well, like Andraste."

"That's my name." She frowned, as if listening to a faraway voice. "Oh, that's right. Urthemiel says I'm famous, apparently?"

Solona laughed weakly and scratched the back of her neck. "Uh, yeah, just a bit."

"That was incredible!" Leonie hurried up to them and started talking a mile a minute. "You just ... and then with the ... how did you ... are you really Andraste?"

"Ah dammit," Solona interrupted her, watching the Orlesian army leave, "They've got Morrigan! Now what are we going to do?"

Andraste turned to follow her gaze, and peered into the distance at the departing troops. "What, them? I could go after them and kill them all if you want."

They both looked at her. "What, just like that?" asked Solona.

Andraste was about to say something when her stomach rumbled. She blushed a little and giggled. "On second thought, maybe we should stop and regroup for lunch..."

They returned to the outpost to treat their wounds and plan their next move. Revka filled Leonie and her daughter in on what Urthemiel had done, and together the three of them watched Andraste hungrily devour the remains of their picnic.

"She's ... not what I was expecting," admitted Revka after a lengthy silence. Solona snorted a half-laugh.

"Well yeah! The Chantry has spent centuries telling everyone that Andraste was this beautiful blonde spiritual saint who could do no wrong. Meanwhile historians pointed out that she was actually a fiery red-headed Ferelden barbarian who waded into battle, sword in hand. I for one think she's great."

Leonie grimaced a little. "Why am I not surprised? The two of you are like birds of a feather."

"Huh." Solona puffed up her chest with pride. "Thanks! That's the first time anyone has ever compared me to Andraste."

Leonie sighed heavily. "What about Morrigan? We have to save her, but that means breaking her out of Aeonar right under Razikale's nose. What do they want with her, anyway?"

"They're searching for a weapon," Andraste called out, wiping her mouth dry after draining a waterskin. The three of them were startled that she could hear them.

"A weapon?" repeated Revka. "What kind of weapon?"

"One that can kill a god." She got up and joined them so she wouldn't have to shout to be heard. "Urthemiel says it was created by the elvhen god June, for use in their war against the Forgotten Ones, but that they turned it on Mythal before it was finished. Razikale probably thinks this Morrigan person knows where it is."

"Does she?"

Andraste shrugged. "Maybe? But so do I, so it might be a good idea if we were to find it before she does." She slammed her fist into her palm. "Then I can use it to kill that bastard."

Leonie frowned. "Sorry, what bastard?"

"The Maker."

The three of them stared at her in stunned silence.

"You want to kill the Maker?" Solona finally said, not quite believing her ears. Andraste scowled, her gaze smouldering with barely contained rage.

"Damn right I do. That bastard possessed me and used me to start a cult. He even murdered my sister!"

"The Maker killed your sister? Why?"

Andraste growled in annoyance. "Because she figured out who he really was, and he couldn't have that little detail getting out, could he?"

The level of confusion amongst them was reaching peak critical levels. Solona hesitated before speaking again, not wanting to anger her further, but desperate for an answer to the obvious question.

"And ... just who exactly is the Maker?"

Andraste regarded her as if she were a complete moron. "Seriously? Don't you people know anything?" She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her forehead, as if she had a sudden headache. "Oh, what ... really? Of course he managed to fool everyone, because everyone is an idiot! Dammit Urthemiel, what nightmarish future have you dragged me into?!" She stomped a short distance away and punched the nearest wall. Since the walls were already crumbling, and Andraste had god-like strength, she knocked a good-sized hole in it.

"You know what, it's fine-" Solona started to say, holding up her hands to try and calm the Prophet down. Andraste snarled.

"No, it's not fine! I can't believe after a thousand years nobody figured out the truth! The Maker is Dumat! Okay? His followers performed some kind of ritual, and when the Grey Wardens killed him in battle, his soul was reborn in my body!" She clutched her head, and it looked as if she were about to scream. "My whole life he controlled me! Used me! Then at the last moment, he abandoned me and jumped into Hessarian!" She lowered her hands from her head and then pointed at the three of them in defiance. "I swear, if it's the last thing I do, I will end him!"