The adrenaline surged through with the ship as it crashed through the waves and brought Aurora closer home. Kirkwall loomed not-so-far in the distance, and only drew nearer with every passing moment. She began to rock back and forth on her feet unconsciously as they were now on the cusp of making landfall on the docks, the very same docks that she and Sparrow had bid farewell from years ago. She had hoped to return someday, but never like this. The reds had a debt to pay, for making their welcome such a grim affair. She then closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, in an attempt to calm her nerves and clear her mind. It only partially worked.
Flecks of stone and static arced between her knuckles as she flexed her hand. Her anxiety had barely been contained before but now, it flooded off of her eager as she was to foot back on the docks. The reds wouldn't make it too easy on them, however. A volley of arrows arched from the docks, but with a raise of her hand most harmlessly bounced off of barriers made up of ice, stone, and magic. She had more mages following her now than she did in Kirkwall, and though only a select few among them had been with her that far back, all of them were eager to prove themselves to their allies. "Aim carefully, and choose your targets," she stated. She had faith in them, they were well-trained and reliable, she had ensured it.
She raised her hand one more time, though this time when she pointed forward, a precise and controlled volley of spells followed, striking into the reds gathered on the dock. There were less of them than she thought there would've been, which meant that the brunt of their force were elsewhere. She frowned and took a step forward, thrusting a palm outward and conjuring a stone spire to follow its path among the other spells.
It was only a few volleys later until they made landfall, and Aurora was the among the first to set foot onto the docks.
Séverine landed beside her, shield in hand. More templars followed with similar armaments, forming a defensive front line that steadily advanced, providing space for the less durable among their forces to safely disembark and form up. The landing wouldn't be a swift process, as there were only so many docks to go around, and the ships would need to reverse their courses to make way for those in the back. They didn't have time to wait for everyone, though.
"I'm moving up through the west," Séverine informed them, and as they'd decided on, she led roughly half of the landing forces into an attack, pushing away from the docks to their left and making for Lowtown proper. The rest would be left with Aurora and Lucien, winding up the eastern side. Already the reds in sight were breaking and falling back. With their numbers, they couldn't hope to stop the Inquisition, only slow them, which it seemed they were still intent on doing.
Given the reduced durability of Aurora's half the troops, Lucien's presence made a difference almost immediately—all that shiny armor did a very good job drawing the opponents towards him, as it was no doubt meant to do. He waded into battle as though no time had passed at all since the last time they were here, in Kirkwall, taking on templars who'd strayed too far from their mandate. The same grim efficiency, same iron defense.
Slowly, they pushed their way eastward, until the sounds of battle changed; it seemed that another fight was already in progress ahead. Through the dark, she could see a man she vaguely recognized as one of Lucien's Lions, the silver-grey hair and stocky stature familiar as those belonging to Havard. Either he hadn't worn a helmet or someone had torn it from him already; he bore a gash over his brow that looked to be bleeding into one of his eyes, but that was nothing compared to the near-total cleft in his steel kite shield. He was still using it, but no doubt doing so effectively was quite the challenge.
Several others fought with him, mostly at his flanks and behind him as he tried to hold the point of the formation more or less by himself. About half of them wore the maroon and silver of the Argent Lions—but the other half looked to be elves, largely unfamiliar with the weapons in their hands if the awkwardness with which they struck was anything to go by. A few had clearly fallen in the area, bodies unmoving on the stone of the street. But for all that, they were doing surprisingly well, considering the sheer number of injuries she could pick out even from this distance.
"We've got to get them out," Lucien said, glancing down at her from the corner of his eye. "They can reinforce our front line." That was obviously not his actual reason for wanting to attempt the rescue, but he was deferring to her as captain of the forces on this side. It was unclear how long he'd be willing to, though—he was patient only to a point, and this appeared to be it.
"Agreed," Aurora answered, her head already rising in order to give out orders. Actual reason or not, his notice was correct. With Sev went much of their sturdier stock, and unlike them, her forces had to worry about the effect the proximity to red lyrium had on them. They could use as many people they could find who didn't have that specific weakness. She reached into her pocket and produced a number of dried leaves which she then popped into her mouth. Mint, in order to try to counteract some of the nausea that would come with fighting the red templars. She'd seen to it that most of her mages also had a supply-- if nothing else to keep their minds off of it and focused.
"We'll lead the charge," she told Lucien as she chewed on the leaves. "Those who can, will follow us and the rest will support." While her mages weren't as durable, they had other talents. "Ready?" she said, and before she even received the answer, she off. She already knew what he'd say. These were his people after all. Precise spells flew past them, striking the reds while outright avoiding the Lions. Amongst that, telltale blue sheened barriers sprung to life in an attempt to better funnel the fighting.
"Of course." Lucien, used to being the first into a battle and the last out, wasted no more time, using the onslaught of spells to preempt his own approach, moving in just behind the first volley.
Unfortunately, red templars were still templars, and arguably more resistant to magic than their more conventional counterparts. Most of the spells didn't seem to do much but distract them, if that; those that hit the hardest still didn't do the amount of damage they perhaps should have.
Physical weapons had a bit more of an effect; Lucien cleaved down into one who had been knocked off-balance by a stonefist and sawed Everburn forward, felling the red who'd been unlucky enough to be standing there. He stepped forward again, drawing even with Havard and reinforcing the point of the formation.
"Fashionably late, Commander," the other man said, angling his shield to deflect the majority of a morning star strike from one of the other corrupted templars. He winced at the impact; the arm was clearly tender. "I see you've settled back into Orlesian habits." Thrusting forward with his longsword, he caught the red in the belly. The blade screeched as it scraped past flushed lyrium crystals.
"It's not a good rescue unless the rescued is desperate, right?" With a grunt, Lucien caught another heavy sword on his own, pushing back against the red wielding it. Havard took the opportunity to sweep his legs out from under him, and a deftly-placed arrow from some nearby rooftop took care of the rest. Slowly, they worked their way through the rest of the group, each hard-earned step punishing them a little more.
Fortunately for Aurora, her magic was only part of her skillset. She was only a step behind Lucien, having paused for a moment to finish off a red templar that had tripped with a stone-encased fist. It cracked his skull and shattered the red lyrium that had crystallized around his temple. The shards caused Aurora to retch before she collected herself and dwelled on the mint in her mouth. Eventually she found herself at Lucien's other flank. She gestured off to their side, where some of the elves were attempting to fend off a few of the red templars. A blue barrier appeared where she had pointed, alleviating the pressure on the elves, but drawing it onto themselves instead.
She ducked under the guard of the first red quickly, before they'd have time to react, and when she came up, she did with the palm of her hand. A hidden blade sprung out from within her dragonhide bracer, piercing beneath the red's chin and ceasing any other thought. She gently gave him a push backward as the blade retracted back into the bracer, and gravity did the rest of the work. She turned toward the side and retched again, before shaking her head and resetting her guard in anticipation for the next one.
As it turned out, there were no more. At least not in this cluster, though much of Lowtown remained to be swept. Gradually, the others relaxed, at least somewhat. Havard heaved a heavy sigh, grimacing as he took in the number of dead. No few wore the uniform of Lucien's mercenaries, but the majority looked to be the same elves in ill-fitting armor.
"We were certainly desperate," he mused, recalling the exchange from a few minutes ago. Wiping the blade of his sword on the tunic of a downed red, he sheathed it and patted Lucien briefly on the shoulder. "It is good to see you. And reinforcements. If you can swing by the Alienage entrance as you go, you might be able to see what's left of the rest of us. We split up so Lia and Amalia could get to the tower. Chain came down, so I'm guessing they're a bit better off than we are. Shield's holding my arm together."
He gestured with it, revealing the inside. It looked like whatever had cleaved it had snapped his radius, though the gauntlet made it hard to say with any certainty.
Lucien hissed sympathetically. "You've done well. Get everyone here as sorted as you can; we'll take care of the rest. I'll send any more injured we find your way... and any healers."
Havard nodded. "Good luck out there, you lot. Don't go dying, now."
Aurora still had the back of her hand pressed against her lips in an attempt to keep the contents of her stomach were they were. With all the adrenaline and activity, she was able to not think about the pit welling up every time a red took a step nearer, at least until she involuntarily retched. Now in a moment of calm, she felt the nausea more acutely. She plucked another mint leaf out of her pocket and threw it in her mouth, the taste covering up the bile coating.
"Donovan," she called, picking him out of the rest of the force. "Take a few of the healers and go with them," she added, pointing at Havard, "I want a triage set up for now." The larger man nodded, and pointed at a few of the mages before following Havard and his men. She would have sent Asala as well, but her barriers would prove more useful with them for now.
She then turned toward Lucien and nodded. "From here, we'll clear the path to the tower and clean out whoever's left there. With any luck, we'll run into Lia and Amalia along the way," she noted. She would feel better if she could be certain they had the tower under their control. While the Inquisition already made it into the the city, they should make sure they had possession of the chain. They would have to pass by regardless as they swept their side of Lowtown. "Let's go," she said, for more than Lucien.
They didn't encounter much resistance as they moved through the streets. The reds had opted instead to take potshots at them and flee before they could be pinned down. Otherwise, their presence was minimal, which made Aurora nervous. They'd need more than that to lay siege to the city, and if the bulk of the forces were elsewhere... She just hoped that they did not have to face them all at once when the time came. Eventually the hit-and-run tactics faded as they began to tread over the bodies of both the red and elves, clear signs that Lia, Amalia, and their allies had been this way. She grimaced as they passed by the next body of an elf, and quickened their pace.
It was not long after that they came to the tower. Like the path behind them, there was a lack of red presence, and after a sweep, the tower was empty as well. "Amalia and Lia must have left after they let the chain down," she noted to Lucien.
He hummed, pursing his lips. "No doubt medical care was required after all this... I believe they may have headed for Nostariel's clinic. I understand the Lions are the people making most use of the building these days." There was a silence after the statement that stretched slightly too long, but Aurora could almost see him set the thought aside in favor of continuing forward. A necessity, at this point.
It was clear that the red templars were mostly retreating from Lowtown; they ran into only one more group on their way to the clinic, and though a lucky arrow struck another of the mages in the belly, the line broke and scattered before anything more substantial could occur. The group elected not to give chase—tracking down their allies took priority for now.
The clinic still stood in exactly the same place Aurora remembered it. The garden in front looked to have been trampled, but recently. Some of the plants still drooped sadly on their stalks, or bent at angles where the passage of many uncaring boots had partially uprooted them. The soft blue of the façade was dull in the dark, the white trim speckled with dirt. But as a whole, it hadn't been the object of any special attention—probably the red templars had passed it by without a clue as to its significance, or the significance of the elf it had once belonged to.
Lucien took point, perhaps anticipating that Amalia and Lia as well as anyone with them would be defensive. "Lia, are you in there? It's us." Only after announcing himself did he approach the door from the street, lifting a hand to knock firmly, but not in a way that conveyed too much urgency.
At the sound of his voice they heard a heavy exhale, from someone who'd been holding her breath. "Yeah, I'm here. We're here." By the sound of her voice, Lia was obviously in pain. She opened the door from the inside, the hand holding the handle also grasping her knife. Her other arm was bloodied, bandaged, and cradled around her side. It wasn't hard to tell that she was dealing with some fractures, probably in her arm and her ribs. A line of dried blood had run down the right side of her face, but it looked to be only a minor cut.
"And you're here," she said, half-smiling and half-wincing up at him. Behind her, Idris was already busying himself again tending to the few elves of their group that had survived the attack on the tower, while Farah was working on a splint for her own leg.
Amalia looked to be in worse shape than any of the others here; the extent of the damage to her face was just a split lip, but below that, she was a mess. She seemed to be in the process of popping her shoulder back into its socket with her other arm, blood running freely from the joints of her armor. There were gouges in the dragonhide in places, where it looked like a heavy flanged weapon had torn through even the thick reptilian skin. One of her boots was already gone, the foot splinted and bandaged likely by someone else. Three empty potion bottles lay on the counter nearest her, a fourth one still full, but uncorked. She glanced up long enough to give them all a slight nod.
"None of us will likely be of much aid to you now," she said, voice somewhat labored even beneath the typical stoicism with which she spoke.
Lucien shook his head. "You've all been plenty of help already." He paused, then addressed the Lions in the group. "Havard's alive," he said, "and so's Ainsley. A few of the others are critical or gone, but there wasn't time for a full accounting. I just wanted to make sure you knew."
Farah hid her relief poorly at the mention of Ainsley's name. Idris didn't bother trying—Aurora remembered him being close friends with the captain.
Lia's relief was obvious as well. "We'll wait here for a while, then move down to the docks. You should hurry, there have been red templars going by ever since we got here. I think they're throwing everything they have at Hightown."
"I was afraid of that," Aurora noted, her lips folded into a grim line. She spared a glance for Lucien before turning back to the others. "I left a few of my healers with Havard. Find them when you get there," she stated, with lingering gaze on Amalia. "Come on, let's hurry," she said to Lucien before turning to leave the clinic. They would all have time to talk later, when the city was theirs again.
As they pressed on, the sounds of a conflict grew louder in the distance. Two conflicts, actually. One was distant, up above them, a struggle raging in Hightown somewhere, while the other was more immediate, punctuated with a series of pop, pop, pops. Grinding gears and strings being stretched taught, just before bolts flew through the air and punctured even thick red templar armor.
They rounded a corner near Lowtown's exit and laid eyes on The Hanged Man, now barred and barricaded. The red templars in sight were actually running from it, trying to scramble up the steps with their shields on their backs as bolt after bolt flew from one of the windows, each finding its mark. Arrows flew from other windows, hooded faces appearing just a moment inside before they took aim again. The source of the bolts was of course the dwarf, Varric Tethras.
"Hold your fire, hold your fire, that's the Emperor of Orlais on my street! And Rosie!" Varric disappeared from the window, and a moment later emerged from the front door after unbolting several locks. A pair of archers emerged behind him. Hired hands, perhaps, or just Lowtown people brave enough to fight with him. "It's about time. When the attack started, I thought I'd grab Bianca, head over The Hanged Man, hole up, grab a nice warm mug of ale, and wait for all this to blow over." His eyes passed over the assembled soldiers behind Lucien and Aurora. "Now I'm thinking I've got a date with Hightown."
"Well, if it isn't Varric." Lucien managed a smile and a short nod. "Well met, though I'd have preferred the warm ale myself."
"You're certainly invited," Aurora said with a raise of her brows. They'd probably need every hand they could find to liberate Hightown, and Varric's crossbow would definitely do some damage, if the demonstration was to go by.
Soon footsteps sounded from the opposite side of the street and set Aurora on the defensive, and the sound of readying spells behind her told her that she wasn't the only one. Their caution proved unnecessary however, as the steps didn't belong to the reds. Instead Ashton took the hard corner out from an alley. Upon gazing on Aurora's force, he lurched to a stop and defensively took a step back, clearly surprised at running into them there. He carried Rilien on his back, who seemed to be unconscious, and not soon after Sparrow rounded the corner, which had the effect of soothing a few of the mages behind her. Aurora hadn't been the only one worried.
Ashton glanced at the bar behind them and then to them specifically before shaking his head. "Why am I surprised we'd meet here of all places," he asked himself. "Of course we would," he added, "You didn't happen to bring an Imperial army with you, did you?" he asked Lucien with a raised brow, half in jest, half serious.
"Just a few friends and a boat," Lucien replied honestly. "And that's a boat more than we usually have around here, so I'll take it." Concern crossed his face upon catching sight of Rilien's condition, but it was clear enough that the elf was still alive, at least. "Let's get him somewhere safer, and then get moving."
The Hanged Man was apparently well-fortified, if Varric had weathered the red storm inside, so they dropped off Rilien inside, before grouping up with the others and preparing for the final push. Séverine rejoined them with her templars among Ashton and his guards and militia, as did both of the Inquisitors, along with Vesryn and Cyrus. It was an army, through and through, cobbled together from every different source possible.
"Let's get moving," Varric said, readying Bianca. "Queenie's not gonna save herself. Well, normally she would, but under the circumstances..." He trailed off, and they wasted no more time, instead making their way up the steps. Hightown awaited them, as did the bulk of the Red Templar army.
Flecks of stone and static arced between her knuckles as she flexed her hand. Her anxiety had barely been contained before but now, it flooded off of her eager as she was to foot back on the docks. The reds wouldn't make it too easy on them, however. A volley of arrows arched from the docks, but with a raise of her hand most harmlessly bounced off of barriers made up of ice, stone, and magic. She had more mages following her now than she did in Kirkwall, and though only a select few among them had been with her that far back, all of them were eager to prove themselves to their allies. "Aim carefully, and choose your targets," she stated. She had faith in them, they were well-trained and reliable, she had ensured it.
She raised her hand one more time, though this time when she pointed forward, a precise and controlled volley of spells followed, striking into the reds gathered on the dock. There were less of them than she thought there would've been, which meant that the brunt of their force were elsewhere. She frowned and took a step forward, thrusting a palm outward and conjuring a stone spire to follow its path among the other spells.
It was only a few volleys later until they made landfall, and Aurora was the among the first to set foot onto the docks.
Séverine landed beside her, shield in hand. More templars followed with similar armaments, forming a defensive front line that steadily advanced, providing space for the less durable among their forces to safely disembark and form up. The landing wouldn't be a swift process, as there were only so many docks to go around, and the ships would need to reverse their courses to make way for those in the back. They didn't have time to wait for everyone, though.
"I'm moving up through the west," Séverine informed them, and as they'd decided on, she led roughly half of the landing forces into an attack, pushing away from the docks to their left and making for Lowtown proper. The rest would be left with Aurora and Lucien, winding up the eastern side. Already the reds in sight were breaking and falling back. With their numbers, they couldn't hope to stop the Inquisition, only slow them, which it seemed they were still intent on doing.
Given the reduced durability of Aurora's half the troops, Lucien's presence made a difference almost immediately—all that shiny armor did a very good job drawing the opponents towards him, as it was no doubt meant to do. He waded into battle as though no time had passed at all since the last time they were here, in Kirkwall, taking on templars who'd strayed too far from their mandate. The same grim efficiency, same iron defense.
Slowly, they pushed their way eastward, until the sounds of battle changed; it seemed that another fight was already in progress ahead. Through the dark, she could see a man she vaguely recognized as one of Lucien's Lions, the silver-grey hair and stocky stature familiar as those belonging to Havard. Either he hadn't worn a helmet or someone had torn it from him already; he bore a gash over his brow that looked to be bleeding into one of his eyes, but that was nothing compared to the near-total cleft in his steel kite shield. He was still using it, but no doubt doing so effectively was quite the challenge.
Several others fought with him, mostly at his flanks and behind him as he tried to hold the point of the formation more or less by himself. About half of them wore the maroon and silver of the Argent Lions—but the other half looked to be elves, largely unfamiliar with the weapons in their hands if the awkwardness with which they struck was anything to go by. A few had clearly fallen in the area, bodies unmoving on the stone of the street. But for all that, they were doing surprisingly well, considering the sheer number of injuries she could pick out even from this distance.
"We've got to get them out," Lucien said, glancing down at her from the corner of his eye. "They can reinforce our front line." That was obviously not his actual reason for wanting to attempt the rescue, but he was deferring to her as captain of the forces on this side. It was unclear how long he'd be willing to, though—he was patient only to a point, and this appeared to be it.
"Agreed," Aurora answered, her head already rising in order to give out orders. Actual reason or not, his notice was correct. With Sev went much of their sturdier stock, and unlike them, her forces had to worry about the effect the proximity to red lyrium had on them. They could use as many people they could find who didn't have that specific weakness. She reached into her pocket and produced a number of dried leaves which she then popped into her mouth. Mint, in order to try to counteract some of the nausea that would come with fighting the red templars. She'd seen to it that most of her mages also had a supply-- if nothing else to keep their minds off of it and focused.
"We'll lead the charge," she told Lucien as she chewed on the leaves. "Those who can, will follow us and the rest will support." While her mages weren't as durable, they had other talents. "Ready?" she said, and before she even received the answer, she off. She already knew what he'd say. These were his people after all. Precise spells flew past them, striking the reds while outright avoiding the Lions. Amongst that, telltale blue sheened barriers sprung to life in an attempt to better funnel the fighting.
"Of course." Lucien, used to being the first into a battle and the last out, wasted no more time, using the onslaught of spells to preempt his own approach, moving in just behind the first volley.
Unfortunately, red templars were still templars, and arguably more resistant to magic than their more conventional counterparts. Most of the spells didn't seem to do much but distract them, if that; those that hit the hardest still didn't do the amount of damage they perhaps should have.
Physical weapons had a bit more of an effect; Lucien cleaved down into one who had been knocked off-balance by a stonefist and sawed Everburn forward, felling the red who'd been unlucky enough to be standing there. He stepped forward again, drawing even with Havard and reinforcing the point of the formation.
"Fashionably late, Commander," the other man said, angling his shield to deflect the majority of a morning star strike from one of the other corrupted templars. He winced at the impact; the arm was clearly tender. "I see you've settled back into Orlesian habits." Thrusting forward with his longsword, he caught the red in the belly. The blade screeched as it scraped past flushed lyrium crystals.
"It's not a good rescue unless the rescued is desperate, right?" With a grunt, Lucien caught another heavy sword on his own, pushing back against the red wielding it. Havard took the opportunity to sweep his legs out from under him, and a deftly-placed arrow from some nearby rooftop took care of the rest. Slowly, they worked their way through the rest of the group, each hard-earned step punishing them a little more.
Fortunately for Aurora, her magic was only part of her skillset. She was only a step behind Lucien, having paused for a moment to finish off a red templar that had tripped with a stone-encased fist. It cracked his skull and shattered the red lyrium that had crystallized around his temple. The shards caused Aurora to retch before she collected herself and dwelled on the mint in her mouth. Eventually she found herself at Lucien's other flank. She gestured off to their side, where some of the elves were attempting to fend off a few of the red templars. A blue barrier appeared where she had pointed, alleviating the pressure on the elves, but drawing it onto themselves instead.
She ducked under the guard of the first red quickly, before they'd have time to react, and when she came up, she did with the palm of her hand. A hidden blade sprung out from within her dragonhide bracer, piercing beneath the red's chin and ceasing any other thought. She gently gave him a push backward as the blade retracted back into the bracer, and gravity did the rest of the work. She turned toward the side and retched again, before shaking her head and resetting her guard in anticipation for the next one.
As it turned out, there were no more. At least not in this cluster, though much of Lowtown remained to be swept. Gradually, the others relaxed, at least somewhat. Havard heaved a heavy sigh, grimacing as he took in the number of dead. No few wore the uniform of Lucien's mercenaries, but the majority looked to be the same elves in ill-fitting armor.
"We were certainly desperate," he mused, recalling the exchange from a few minutes ago. Wiping the blade of his sword on the tunic of a downed red, he sheathed it and patted Lucien briefly on the shoulder. "It is good to see you. And reinforcements. If you can swing by the Alienage entrance as you go, you might be able to see what's left of the rest of us. We split up so Lia and Amalia could get to the tower. Chain came down, so I'm guessing they're a bit better off than we are. Shield's holding my arm together."
He gestured with it, revealing the inside. It looked like whatever had cleaved it had snapped his radius, though the gauntlet made it hard to say with any certainty.
Lucien hissed sympathetically. "You've done well. Get everyone here as sorted as you can; we'll take care of the rest. I'll send any more injured we find your way... and any healers."
Havard nodded. "Good luck out there, you lot. Don't go dying, now."
Aurora still had the back of her hand pressed against her lips in an attempt to keep the contents of her stomach were they were. With all the adrenaline and activity, she was able to not think about the pit welling up every time a red took a step nearer, at least until she involuntarily retched. Now in a moment of calm, she felt the nausea more acutely. She plucked another mint leaf out of her pocket and threw it in her mouth, the taste covering up the bile coating.
"Donovan," she called, picking him out of the rest of the force. "Take a few of the healers and go with them," she added, pointing at Havard, "I want a triage set up for now." The larger man nodded, and pointed at a few of the mages before following Havard and his men. She would have sent Asala as well, but her barriers would prove more useful with them for now.
She then turned toward Lucien and nodded. "From here, we'll clear the path to the tower and clean out whoever's left there. With any luck, we'll run into Lia and Amalia along the way," she noted. She would feel better if she could be certain they had the tower under their control. While the Inquisition already made it into the the city, they should make sure they had possession of the chain. They would have to pass by regardless as they swept their side of Lowtown. "Let's go," she said, for more than Lucien.
They didn't encounter much resistance as they moved through the streets. The reds had opted instead to take potshots at them and flee before they could be pinned down. Otherwise, their presence was minimal, which made Aurora nervous. They'd need more than that to lay siege to the city, and if the bulk of the forces were elsewhere... She just hoped that they did not have to face them all at once when the time came. Eventually the hit-and-run tactics faded as they began to tread over the bodies of both the red and elves, clear signs that Lia, Amalia, and their allies had been this way. She grimaced as they passed by the next body of an elf, and quickened their pace.
It was not long after that they came to the tower. Like the path behind them, there was a lack of red presence, and after a sweep, the tower was empty as well. "Amalia and Lia must have left after they let the chain down," she noted to Lucien.
He hummed, pursing his lips. "No doubt medical care was required after all this... I believe they may have headed for Nostariel's clinic. I understand the Lions are the people making most use of the building these days." There was a silence after the statement that stretched slightly too long, but Aurora could almost see him set the thought aside in favor of continuing forward. A necessity, at this point.
It was clear that the red templars were mostly retreating from Lowtown; they ran into only one more group on their way to the clinic, and though a lucky arrow struck another of the mages in the belly, the line broke and scattered before anything more substantial could occur. The group elected not to give chase—tracking down their allies took priority for now.
The clinic still stood in exactly the same place Aurora remembered it. The garden in front looked to have been trampled, but recently. Some of the plants still drooped sadly on their stalks, or bent at angles where the passage of many uncaring boots had partially uprooted them. The soft blue of the façade was dull in the dark, the white trim speckled with dirt. But as a whole, it hadn't been the object of any special attention—probably the red templars had passed it by without a clue as to its significance, or the significance of the elf it had once belonged to.
Lucien took point, perhaps anticipating that Amalia and Lia as well as anyone with them would be defensive. "Lia, are you in there? It's us." Only after announcing himself did he approach the door from the street, lifting a hand to knock firmly, but not in a way that conveyed too much urgency.
At the sound of his voice they heard a heavy exhale, from someone who'd been holding her breath. "Yeah, I'm here. We're here." By the sound of her voice, Lia was obviously in pain. She opened the door from the inside, the hand holding the handle also grasping her knife. Her other arm was bloodied, bandaged, and cradled around her side. It wasn't hard to tell that she was dealing with some fractures, probably in her arm and her ribs. A line of dried blood had run down the right side of her face, but it looked to be only a minor cut.
"And you're here," she said, half-smiling and half-wincing up at him. Behind her, Idris was already busying himself again tending to the few elves of their group that had survived the attack on the tower, while Farah was working on a splint for her own leg.
Amalia looked to be in worse shape than any of the others here; the extent of the damage to her face was just a split lip, but below that, she was a mess. She seemed to be in the process of popping her shoulder back into its socket with her other arm, blood running freely from the joints of her armor. There were gouges in the dragonhide in places, where it looked like a heavy flanged weapon had torn through even the thick reptilian skin. One of her boots was already gone, the foot splinted and bandaged likely by someone else. Three empty potion bottles lay on the counter nearest her, a fourth one still full, but uncorked. She glanced up long enough to give them all a slight nod.
"None of us will likely be of much aid to you now," she said, voice somewhat labored even beneath the typical stoicism with which she spoke.
Lucien shook his head. "You've all been plenty of help already." He paused, then addressed the Lions in the group. "Havard's alive," he said, "and so's Ainsley. A few of the others are critical or gone, but there wasn't time for a full accounting. I just wanted to make sure you knew."
Farah hid her relief poorly at the mention of Ainsley's name. Idris didn't bother trying—Aurora remembered him being close friends with the captain.
Lia's relief was obvious as well. "We'll wait here for a while, then move down to the docks. You should hurry, there have been red templars going by ever since we got here. I think they're throwing everything they have at Hightown."
"I was afraid of that," Aurora noted, her lips folded into a grim line. She spared a glance for Lucien before turning back to the others. "I left a few of my healers with Havard. Find them when you get there," she stated, with lingering gaze on Amalia. "Come on, let's hurry," she said to Lucien before turning to leave the clinic. They would all have time to talk later, when the city was theirs again.
As they pressed on, the sounds of a conflict grew louder in the distance. Two conflicts, actually. One was distant, up above them, a struggle raging in Hightown somewhere, while the other was more immediate, punctuated with a series of pop, pop, pops. Grinding gears and strings being stretched taught, just before bolts flew through the air and punctured even thick red templar armor.
They rounded a corner near Lowtown's exit and laid eyes on The Hanged Man, now barred and barricaded. The red templars in sight were actually running from it, trying to scramble up the steps with their shields on their backs as bolt after bolt flew from one of the windows, each finding its mark. Arrows flew from other windows, hooded faces appearing just a moment inside before they took aim again. The source of the bolts was of course the dwarf, Varric Tethras.
"Hold your fire, hold your fire, that's the Emperor of Orlais on my street! And Rosie!" Varric disappeared from the window, and a moment later emerged from the front door after unbolting several locks. A pair of archers emerged behind him. Hired hands, perhaps, or just Lowtown people brave enough to fight with him. "It's about time. When the attack started, I thought I'd grab Bianca, head over The Hanged Man, hole up, grab a nice warm mug of ale, and wait for all this to blow over." His eyes passed over the assembled soldiers behind Lucien and Aurora. "Now I'm thinking I've got a date with Hightown."
"Well, if it isn't Varric." Lucien managed a smile and a short nod. "Well met, though I'd have preferred the warm ale myself."
"You're certainly invited," Aurora said with a raise of her brows. They'd probably need every hand they could find to liberate Hightown, and Varric's crossbow would definitely do some damage, if the demonstration was to go by.
Soon footsteps sounded from the opposite side of the street and set Aurora on the defensive, and the sound of readying spells behind her told her that she wasn't the only one. Their caution proved unnecessary however, as the steps didn't belong to the reds. Instead Ashton took the hard corner out from an alley. Upon gazing on Aurora's force, he lurched to a stop and defensively took a step back, clearly surprised at running into them there. He carried Rilien on his back, who seemed to be unconscious, and not soon after Sparrow rounded the corner, which had the effect of soothing a few of the mages behind her. Aurora hadn't been the only one worried.
Ashton glanced at the bar behind them and then to them specifically before shaking his head. "Why am I surprised we'd meet here of all places," he asked himself. "Of course we would," he added, "You didn't happen to bring an Imperial army with you, did you?" he asked Lucien with a raised brow, half in jest, half serious.
"Just a few friends and a boat," Lucien replied honestly. "And that's a boat more than we usually have around here, so I'll take it." Concern crossed his face upon catching sight of Rilien's condition, but it was clear enough that the elf was still alive, at least. "Let's get him somewhere safer, and then get moving."
The Hanged Man was apparently well-fortified, if Varric had weathered the red storm inside, so they dropped off Rilien inside, before grouping up with the others and preparing for the final push. Séverine rejoined them with her templars among Ashton and his guards and militia, as did both of the Inquisitors, along with Vesryn and Cyrus. It was an army, through and through, cobbled together from every different source possible.
"Let's get moving," Varric said, readying Bianca. "Queenie's not gonna save herself. Well, normally she would, but under the circumstances..." He trailed off, and they wasted no more time, instead making their way up the steps. Hightown awaited them, as did the bulk of the Red Templar army.