Vita Apoculs

Erik pulled his sword out of the possessed corpse's skull, the vessel collapsing heavily at his feet as the demon inside was destroyed. There had always been something about the Blade of Highever that seemed to set it apart from other swords; the Cousland had thought it was only the exceptional craftsmanship, but he had been pleasantly surprised that whoever had crafted it had also had it enchanted to be more effective against the unliving. Where it would normally take several crippling blows to put down one of them, this sword did so with minimal effort.

He was standing in one of the openings in the barricade, holding back the walking corpses as the hastily reinforced walls funnelled them towards him. There were three more such openings, one being held each by Alistair, Sten and Bann Teagan.

It was proving an effective strategy against the almost comical tactics employed by the undead. Clearly these were not being directed personally, merely being sent forth to attack anything in the town. He was grateful for that; the way they had been backed into the Chantry would have been problematic against any enemy that might try to flank them through the building's windows, or clamber over the barricade. Yet that was not the case, and so they held out.

Elisa slipped around her brother like an extra set of arms, the lack of effectiveness of her daggers causing her to switch to a more defensive role, hamstringing the dead so they would be less of a threat and then letting her brother finish them off.

"Remind me…to have that midget…enchant my daggers with the same thing yours has," she panted between strikes.

Erik only chuckled, swinging his sword in a gleaming arc that decapitated a corpse that had gotten too close.

"Pth, bastard!"

He glanced over to see Elisa spitting, his swing having sprayed her face with bile. He laughed again. "I hope you realise that would make you as much a bastard."

"Whatever," the noble rogue muttered as she resumed her maiming.

Leliana was standing next to Morrigan on a wooden platform that had been built out of several tables, allowing them to launch attacks over the barricade. "Maker guide my aim and see these abominations gone from this world," Leliana prayed as she loosed arrow after arrow into the throng.

She had found some lamp oil in the Chantry, which had probably been intended and consecrated for the eternal flame. But, she reasoned, their need was greater and so used it to construct flaming arrows that set the undead alight, in some cases even having small crowds of them to fall as they stumbled into one another, ragged remains of clothing burning.

"Hah, 'tis not orison but skill that will serve us here, foolish woman," Morrigan scoffed as she released an entropic cloud into the horde, causing dozens of dead to wither and collapse.

Sten was silently hewing through the walking corpses, several villagers with spears standing at his flanks to impale any of the cadavers that made it past him, much as they did with Teagan, where there were also a few hunters firing into the undead, trying to make up for the difference between the Bann's defensive style and the cleaving attacks of the Qunari.

"You know, I hate this," Alistair said off-hand.

Celestine, who was standing slightly behind him to his left chuckled. "Are you sure about hate? Your tone says more 'slightly concerned.'""

"No, it's definitely hate. , Aside from the fact that I could swear I might have known some of these people, the stench is absolutely terrible."

The blonde-haired Warden used the rim of his shield to cave in the skull of an approaching corpse, then stepped back with his left leg and swung around with the right, his sword following the motion as it disemboweled three undead at once. Celestine stepped within his reach, causing him to start as her hair almost flew into his mouth. She did not notice, however, as she flicked up the butt of her staff from the ground, rocks exploding out of the cobbles at the feet of the undead, flinging several into the air, and one was crushed, having gotten caught in the middle of the new geological formation. She stepped back to where she had been earlier, smiling at his stunned expression. "Come on, Cheese-boy, there are undead yet to kill."

He muttered something under his breath as he tried to forget the scent of her hair. Several unfortunate corpses met the angry swinging of his sword.

~o~

"Bethany!" both Sorana and Leandra screamed at the same time.

The girl had gone down in a horde of Darkspawn that had swamped her and her mother. Leandra was doing something completely out of character, using the staff her eldest had given her to attack the writhing swarm around her youngest daughter. Luckily, Ser Wesley forcefully pushed her behind himself and used his sword and shield to fend off any whose attention the elderly woman had gotten before they could harm her.

Sorana seemed to barely move at all apart from her arms, the heartwood staff in her hands a blur around her as it cracked heads, snapped bones, cut flesh and pierced armour. She slowly moved to where her sister had disappeared, any Darkspawn near her either reeling away, fatally wounded, or collapsing to the ground, incapacitated.

She had almost reached the place when it erupted, a ripple of pure force throwing back all Darkspawn. It would also have thrown Sorana back had she not hastily erected a barrier; even then the shock caused her to have to take a step back. Crouching on the ground before her was Bethany, breathing heavily,her clothes soaked through with sweat, but unharmed.

The oldest Hawke ran to her sister, wrapping her arms around her, a relieved sob escaping her lungs as she held onto the other girl. "Maker, don't ever do that again Beth."

A weak laugh escaped the twin, as she accepted her older sibling's appreciation.

"Fuck, RANA, LOOK OUT!" Carver's voice cracked as he shouted the warning.

It came just in time for Sorana to look up from where she was cradling her sister into the cruel orange beads that the ogre had for eyes, just in time for her to shift so that the massive creature's arm slammed into her instead of her drained sibling.

Pain flared through her side and she could hear as several ribs snapped. The blow lifted her from where she had been kneeling on the ground into the air, and time seemed to stop for an instant as she experienced a strange weightlessness. Then time resumed and she crashed into the face of a cliff. The world exploded into white, dark blocks chewing at the corners of her vision – her consciousness. Her sight quickly swam back into view though, the lyrium in her blood augmenting the adrenalin that had already been pumping through her for the entire day. It returned just in time to see the ogre hoist Bethany with one hand, the mage vainly flinging spells at it even while she was being lifted.

Everything seemed to slow down as the ogre bellowed its rage at the elemental assault; it lifted the struggling Hawke over its head before throwing her back to the ground. There was a loud crack and a soft grunt.

Sorana half crawled back to her feet, an expression of disbelief frozen onto her face, eyes that had been streaming tears of relief just moments before suddenly dry. The shock of what had just happened seemed too unreal.

Then the ogre lifted up its hand again, a now mangled Bethany still clutched in its grasp. The girl flopped uselessly in the creature's grip, an arm and her neck at completely wrong angles. The creature roared again, swinging the now lifeless body back to the ground.

It all still seemed to move in slow motion to Sorana, impossible. Little Beth, who had followed after her, always cheerfully smiling and laughing. Little Beth, who had idolised her as only a younger sibling could. Little Beth who had fought with Carver about their carved wooden toys. Little Beth who never asked about that night even though she wanted to know what had happened. Little Beth who had stayed behind to help Mother. Little Beth whom she had promised to teach how to protect herself. The limp doll in the ogre's grasp couldn't possibly be little Beth.

A muted scream slowly pierced through Sorana, shattering her shock. Then she could hear the full force of it - a scream of fear, sorrow, disbelief and rage. Is that Mother screaming? No. Leandra was just staring in wide-eyed horror. No. This scream isn't Mother's, this scream is mine.

Like a pin dropping, the realisation that it was herself that she was hearing hit her. It was a small realisation, but it was one that broke open a dam. A flood of emotions suddenly surged through her, a flood of feelings that had all been expressed in that scream. A flood that she swallowed, snapping shut her jaw, lips quivering at the effort of keeping it contained. Her eyes grew bright at the pent up river that she was trying to hold back. But one path remained, a path that she had not blocked up.

There as an audible gasp from Ser Wesley's position as the river burst its banks. Sorana's fury flared, lighting up every hint of lyrium in her body. The mark across her nose grew warm as a nimbus of cyan fire swirled around her feet. The flames licked her legs, warm, but not unpleasantly so. Instead of charging at the ogre, to stop it from crushing her sister more, Sorana slammed down her staff, its blade digging into the hard ground. She left it standing there as blue flames started flickering around her hands.

There was a loud thumping noise, and the ogre bellowed.

A massive hand conjured from pure fade energy had gripped it around half its body, seemingly digging into the chest at the sternum, yet not drawing blood. The ogre dropped Bethany to claw at this new foe, but as the girl hit the floor another hand materialised, gripping the ogre from the other side.

The creature screamed, either in anger, or pain, as the two hands dug into it. Then they lifted it into the air, suspending it over the ground. Sorana pulled her hands apart, having mimicked everything the giant hands had done as a puppeteer would have. The ogre did not bellow again, it did not scream in rage, it merely came apart, torn in two.

Sorana panted, mana depleted from the ferocious use of magic, and Carver was running towards her as the world was swallowed by darkness. Odd…I don't remember seeing any dragons here before….