Chapter 82
The guards in the dungeon were a lot more observant than the ones on the main floor, which meant their disguises were useless. This, of course, led to fighting... a lot of fighting, and they left a trail of bodies in their wake as they made their way through the dank corridors. They pushed open a door and stepped into another torture chamber where they foundOswyn, son of Bann Sighard lying on a rack. In the game, he spoke of being tortured, and yet there had been no signs of this, except for a black eye; unfortunately, that wasn't the case now. Burns, bruises, and cuts from a whip marred the man's skin, but worse than that was the disfigured lump that used to resemble his left knee.
"Merda!" Emma looked over to Zevran and figured that if he was disturbed by this, then it had to be bad. "I need to get to my father," Oswyn's voice trembled with raw emotion. Emma reached into her bag and pulled out her long cloak, this she placed over his shoulders to cover his mostly naked body and pulled up the hood to hide his face. "Are you able to walk?" Aedan asked. The man nodded and took a few tremulous steps forward. "I'll make it. I'm not staying another minute in this place."
All the will in the world wouldn't get him out the front door if his legs gave way, so Emma handed him her staff. He gave her a grateful smile but looked anxious. "Won't you need this? The place is crawling with guards."
She smiled. "Don't worry, the staff isn't a necessity." Leaning heavily on the metal stave, he left the room.
"Are you sure you don't need that?" Aedan asked, looking concerned.
"Not to work magic, but it was useful for blocking any attackers who got too close," she added as an afterthought.
He glared at her. "What am I going to do with you?"
She shrugged, and then remembered the Arcane Warrior class. "Well, you could give me a sword."
Aedan's brow shot up in surprise, but Oghren let out a shout of approval. "Hah! The lass has the right idea. She can block easily enough with a sheathed sword." He reached behind his back and lifted a massive two-handed sword encased in a hard leather sheath. "Here ya go, lass."
Emma took the hilt and grunted at the weight. Holy shit, she was pretty sure she'd just given herself a hernia. "Er… do you have something in the lighter range?" Oghren tutted as he took the sword from her hands and swung it easily onto his back. "You need to build up some sodding muscle, lass."
Aedan had an idea and darted off back the way they'd just come. A few minutes later, he returned carrying a sheathed Fereldan longsword. "Will this work?"
She took the hilt and tested the weight with a few practice swings. "Yeah, this is perfect."
With it strapped to her back, they continued on their way and were soon immersed in some very intense fighting. Emma reached back, grabbed the hilt and pulled; unfortunately, the sheath stayed where it was, and she ended up with just the sword in her hand. Oh well, she'd just have to remember not to hold the pointy end with her other hand. One guard broke away from the main group and headed directly for her. Oh shit! She released Flame Blast and swung the sword in an arc; a trail of fire followed the movement of the weapon, and the guard screamed as his face took the full brunt of it.
Okay, well that worked.
She moved a little closer to the bulk of the fighting and drew another guard her way. She thrust forward with the sword, catching the man in the arm, not a bad wound in itself, except, she also released a bolt of lightning at the same time, causing the guard to jitter, and his skin to blacken.
She'd spent some time trying to remember some of the other Force spells, and consequently, she now had a new spell to her repertoire. She cast Gravitational Pull and three guards were dragged away from the fight. They were slammed them into the ground and then a death cloud was dropped over them. The sudden silence was almost deafening after the final death rattle of the last guard, who had a gaping wound in his chest from Oghren's two-handed axe.
"Well, that was bracing. Shall we see what else this chamber of horrors has to offer?"
"Sodding right, elf! Let's go." The dwarf wiped his blade on the corpse of a guard before dropping his weapon back in its harness. Emma searched the bodies and found a ring of keys, which she hoped were for the jail cells. She found Soris and explained the current situation in Denerim as she quickly unlocked the door. With a word of thanks, the elf was gone. She turned to the other cell and looked at Rexel with pity as she unlocked the cell. "Just hang in there, I'll let your family know where you are," she whispered to him.
They continued on their way, and all too soon they stood outside the door that led to Arl Howe. Emma drew in a deep breath and pulled Aedan to one side. "He's in there. I know you're angry, and the bastard is going to taunt you, but please be careful." The cold expression was back, at odds with the fiery rage in his eyes. He gave her a short nod and then stormed to the door, raised his foot and slammed it against the lock. The door-frame splintered, and the occupants of the room spun around, their shocked faces a picture to behold, but Aedan's gaze was fixed only on Howe.
The Arl quickly hid his surprise, replacing it with a smug expression. "Well, well. Bryce Cousland's little boy, all grown up, and still trying to fit in his daddy's armour. I thought Loghain made it clear that your pathetic family is gone and forgotten, boy!"
"Not forgotten, Howe, not by me," Aedan snarled.
The Arl's lip curled up in a cold sneer. "Your parents died on their knees, your brother's corpse rots in Ostagar, and his brat was burned on a scra-" Aedan's fist connected with flesh and bone, effectively stopping the vitriolic comments spewing from Howe's mouth. The man staggered back, holding a hand to his jaw and smudging the line of blood that trickled from his lip.
"I know your game. No more shadows and lies. Just you and me." The cold emotionless tone made Emma glance over to Aedan to confirm that it was he who had spoken as his voice was unrecognisable from the warm vibrant tones she was used to hearing from him. A shiver ran down her spine at the empty look in his eyes.
The Arl straightened and drew his weapons. There was a flash of fear in his eyes - a brief acknowledgement of his inevitable death at the hands of this man whose family he'd destroyed - then it was gone, and in its place was a man ready to fight for his life. He let out a battle cry and charged. Aedan easily blocked the blow from Howe's axe, and the fight began in earnest.
Emma and her companions turned their eyes towards the Arl's men who were drawing close to the duel - no doubt with the intention of aiding Howe. Emma drew her sword and swung at the nearest mage. "He's not your fight. I am." She used Mind Blast and knocked the man back a couple of paces, putting distance between him and his master. Emma blocked all thoughts of Aedan's fight from her mind knowing she couldn't afford to be distracted with worry for him. She finished the mage off with a blow from her sword, shattering his frozen body, and then she turned to help finish off any other fights. However, she realised the only fight still going on was the one between Aedan and Howe.
She watched them, noting Aedan's quick, smooth movements, and Howe's ragged breathing. The Arl was covered in numerous cuts, whereas Aedan had only two that she could see. She'd been around rogues and warriors for a while now, so she knew that he could have ended this fight already. He's toying with him, like a cat with a mouse. The end came in a move that took Emma's breath away. Even Zevran gasped at the beauty of it.
Aedan spun his daggers so that he held them in an inverted grip, and slammed both pommels into the Arl's face. Blood gushed from Howe's broken nose and he instinctively lifted his hand to the painful injury. Aedan made his move, and surged forward; he wrapped one arm around the back of Howe's neck and simultaneously drove his blade deep into the Arl's stomach. With the momentum from the thrust and the pressure on the Arl's neck, he flipped the man onto his back with a crashing thud. He followed the Arl down to the ground, landing on one knee, with his blade still embedded deep in Howe's torso.
Blood dribbled from the Arl's mouth. "Maker spit on you. I deserved mo-" Aedan's fist slammed into flesh that was already torn. "Yes, you did. You deserved more pain for killing my mother…" Crack! Howe's jaw dislocated from the force of the punch. "…my father…" His fist drew back once more, but it was clear to everyone that he would just be hitting a corpse, so Emma stepped forward and laid her hand over his scraped, bloody knuckles. "He's dead, Aedan." His chest heaved as he looked down at the bloody, battered body of the man who'd taken so much away from him. Abruptly, he stood up and made his way to the door. "Let's get this finished."
Alistair looked over to Emma. "Is he going to be all right?" With concerned eyes, she watched her man walk out the door. "I hope so."
