One last push. That was all that was left.
The traitors had been reduced to this, cowering in a frozen fortress waiting to die, pitifully seeking to take as many with them as they could. Séverine's templars had been reduced to a pitiful number in the south, but after this, all would know that they were still the rightful sword-arm of the Chantry. Still capable of defending the people from horrors like this.
They left the giant behind, wrapping around the edge of Suledin's inner keep towards the entrance. Perhaps there were others they could sneak into, but none would be as close to the supply of red lyrium they needed to destroy. It was about to get bloody, but with any luck the surprise of their attack and their skill in working together would see them through.
Two guards stood at the door, one on either side. More would be inside. Already Séverine could feel her stomach turning from the strength of the lyrium shards inside. She couldn't imagine what Rilien was putting up with. It wasn't like he'd ever complain, though. She glanced back, eyes making contact with the others through the slit of her helmet.
"This is as far as stealth takes us. We get in, secure the supply, set the devices, then we fight our way clear. Understood?" Preferably that way would take them through Carver, but Séverine was resolved not to be picky when these five other lives here were in the balance.
"Sounds like fun," Vesryn said, trying to shake something clear of his head. Some dizziness, perhaps. Séverine had been tempted to request he stay behind, but couldn't find the words. He wanted to fight to make a difference while he was still capable of it. She didn't understand what he was going through, but that much at least make perfect sense to her.
"You take the right, then. I'll take left. Khari, Leon, you're first through the door. We're right behind you."
They rushed out from cover, catching the door guards by surprise. Certainly they weren't expecting a sudden attack from within the fortress, when their enemies seemed to be camped out of range of even their horrors. Séverine's flail smashed into the already dented helmet of the red on the left, taking it clean off. The second pass of her weapon crunched in the man's skull. Vesryn's spear lanced up high, punching through the other's throat. She collapsed, clutching at her neck. Khari and Leon crashed into the double doors and burst them open, falling upon the first red templars they found inside. Romulus and Rilien followed in after them, with Séverine and Vesryn bringing up the rear. She closed the doors behind them for good measure. Might buy them a few seconds.
The lowest level of the keep was a courtyard area, a cobblestone path surrounding frozen dirt in a large rectangle, with stairs leading to the upper levels in the back corners on either side. There was an elaborate multi-tiered fountain in the center, the statue at the top of which had long been destroyed. Already a few enemies had been cut down, but the noise was impossible to hide, and more were coming swiftly down the stairs, archers and one horror setting up to rain projectiles down while the others closed in. They wouldn't want to remain here any longer than they needed to.
Fortunately, Rilien was nothing if not efficient, and he was the one in charge of setting the explosives on the red lyrium. As if by some internal sense for its location, he broke away from the group with purpose, heading into a room on their left. The door was closed but not locked, and he slipped quietly inside, a mere shadow on the wall next to the noise the others were making. No doubt he'd be out as soon as possible.
In the meantime, Khari was already moving forward to engage the oncoming foes. It was easy to see why: the more time they had to settle their positions, the harder it would be to push through them later. Her sword came down hard on one templar's lyrium-encrusted arm, severing it at the elbow. That was enough to give even one of the reds pause, and in her moment of recoil from the pain, the green blade flashed, punched into the soft skin beneath her jaw and withdrawn in a fast, precise single motion.
Leon crashed into the line next to her, fending off another red trying to get at her flank. The first heavy blow knocked the templar's helm right off. The second snapped his head back with such force that his neck broke, and he fell. Leon flexed his fingers once, as if shaking off a twinge, and dove back into the melee.
They were being closed in on too quickly. Thankfully the red templars they were initially faced with lacked organization, and they were easily able to cut them down. The archers were a nuisance they couldn't immediately deal with, but most of them were well-armored enough that the archers needed exceptionally well placed or lucky shots to do much damage. Séverine didn't know what was involved in the process of setting the explosives, but she was willing to bet that Rilien would work quickly.
No sooner did she have the thought than a heavy rumbling reached her ears, and her feet. A red templar behemoth smashed through the railing a floor above them and dropped down into the courtyard, the weight leaving cracks in the stones where it landed. Séverine figured there were more of them somewhere in Suledin, she'd just hoped none would be in the keep itself.
To add to that, a familiar figure stood atop one of the flights of stairs, observing the Inquisition intruders through the narrow slit of a full helm. Carver hefted his red lyrium greatsword in both hands, slowly descending beside his soldiers. This was going to get a lot messier.
"Romulus, Khari, I need you on that behemoth," she ordered. Of all of them, they had the weapons most suited to killing. Her own abilities could help, but if Carver was here, there was simply no way she wouldn't face him. Vesryn could guard Rilien's back well enough until he returned, and Leon could likely float where he was needed.
“You got it!" Khari kicked her latest kill off her sword and reoriented herself. It was hard to say for sure under the helm, but it was a fair bet that she was grinning madly. “Been waiting to kill one of these fuckers." No doubt at this moment the fight in Kirkwall was fresh in her mind—when one of the behemoth's kin had nearly taken her life, and then nearly hobbled her permanently.
She met this one head-on, the blade of her sword squealing against the massive red lyrium spikes making up its left arm. It swung for her with the faster, spearlike limb, but she turned aside, and the blow whiffed by her abdomen instead of connecting. Several heavy, ringing collisions followed, chunks of red lyrium splintering and flying in all directions as she chipped away at it with her enchanted sword. While it survived the blows, she didn't seem to be making much headway.
Romulus didn't have a physical weapon that could do much to the behemoth, but he had his marked hand, which was potentially even better. Of course, he had to get extremely close to use it, and the behemoth wasn't making that easy. It was dangerous to even get close to, especially with how much it was throwing around its great weight, and it periodically caused small bursts of red lyrium shards to uproot from the ground, with only a second's warning. For the moment, the Inquisitor was stuck looking for an opening, and making sure no other red templars threatened Khari's back while she dealt with the behemoth head on.
Carver didn't wait long to engage, and threw himself directly at Séverine, who met his charge in full. His sword smashed into her shield, rattling her arm, but she successfully turned it aside, landing a blow with her flail on his shoulder, which he managed to get in front of his face. It did less than she'd hoped, enabling Carver to spin out of it and bring the pommel of his weapon up into the facemask of her helm. Séverine was jarred back, forced to lift her weapon hand to adjust the helm so she could see again. The time spent was all Carver needed to make another swing, this one crashing heavily onto her shield as she got it up, and forcing Séverine down to a knee under the weight of it.
The weight bearing down on her was lifted when Leon intervened, stepping in close while Carver was distracted to take a swing at him. The Red Templars' leader avoided the strike, but doing so forced him to give up his positioning—and his chance to strike again at Séverine. He aimed a slash for for Leon instead, sword whistling dully through the air. A grating clang—the Commander deflected with the back of one of his heavy gauntlets. The collision still forced him a step back, a soft grunt escaping him as she shored up his feet.
Khari seemed to be attempting to drive the behemoth back in the direction they'd come, but herding something as large as one of those was no easy task. She had to take three steps and three swings for every one of its, and tireless as she was, that was no trivial amount of work. The reckless fury of her initial swings quickly streamlined into something just as brutal, but much more efficient; she worked methodically to draw it into heavy blows, darting around them and striking at whatever weaker parts of itself it left exposed.
One particular effort was especially good: the behemoth stabbed forward for her midsection, but she twisted to the side, and the blade-arm caught in the stone wall, slipping into a gap between slabs and punching right through the mortar. This or something like it must have been part of the plan, because Khari seemed prepared. “Rom, now!"
Romulus threw aside the red templar he'd been killing to take advantage of the opening, going for the behemoth's backside. His mark was already crackling with energy when he got there, and he barely had to place his palm on the monstrosity's lyrium-encrusted lower back before there was a blast of energy. It sent chunks of red lyrium rocks soaring into the air and showering down on their heads, like some kind of red hail. The behemoth roared in what had to be pain and rage, the area on its back now appearing significantly softer and more vulnerable, if it were to be hit.
It wouldn't be held in one spot any longer, though, as it brought its massive club arm down on the other. It was apparently too thoroughly lodged to be removed quickly enough, so the behemoth snapped it off at the end, a grunt of pain the only indication that it was bothered by the now-shortened limb. The arm swiftly came free and whipped around, bludgeoning Romulus away. He skidded on his back across the hard frozen dirt, but didn't appear to be too injured.
Séverine had risen back to her feet, and she charged Carver again, slamming her shield into his side while he was occupied with Leon. The hit knocked Carver flat onto his back, and Séverine followed up with a downward swing of her flail, the weight behind it sending his guard aside with a clang. She descended on him, bringing the rim of her shield down towards his throat, but he abandoned his blade in time to catch it with his bare hands. They were close enough that she could clearly make out his eyes underneath the helmet, red-tinged and focused.
His strength was enough to throw her attempt backwards, and a hard kick caught Séverine in the chest, throwing her onto her own back and giving Carver time to get his sword back in hand. More red templars came in from the side to attack Leon and give their commander time to get to his feet. Vesryn intercepted one of them, but they were appearing faster than they could be killed.
Khari was still working the behemoth backwards, strategically giving ground and getting them both into the hallway beyond. A flash of white could only be Rilien's reappearance. Whatever words they exchanged were too far to hear, but there was little mistaking the way they both broke into a sprint immediately afterwards, diving under the confused creature's arms and rolling to their feet.
The reason was obvious: a moment later, the first tremors shook the floor, a split-second of warning before the first thunderous bang split the air and shook the castle to its foundations. A second followed hard on its heels, and then a third, a massive plume of flame belching from the open doorway into the storage room. It caught the behemoth unprepared, the first explosion taking it to a knee. The second blasted a chunk of masonry into its center mass, and the third bathed it in the fire, which funneled into the hallway, reaching the arch they'd come through and spewing several meters into the courtyard. It looked like the back of Khari's armor was scorched, but fortunately the damage to their allies was no worse than that.
Both of them crashed into the red templar line, falling in with Vesryn to keep the reinforcements off Leon.
The morale of the red templars had been flagging before, and with the utter destruction of their lyrium supply, no few of them simply stopped fighting, looking on at the destruction with expressions that were difficult to read. Not the kind of abject horror Séverine expected... more of an emptiness. No matter what happened here, this was the end.
The roar of rage from outside only cemented that, footfalls heavier than the behemoth's growing quieter as they carried the giant away from the keep. Even from here they could hear the first massive crash of its club coming down on someone unlucky enough to get in its way.
Carver wasn't done, but the timing of the explosion gave Séverine enough time to get back to her feet, and she met him head-on again, her friends cutting through soldiers and horrors and shadows around her. No amount of corruption would overcome her own honed templar abilities, and when Carver's sword met her shield, he found the bulwark white hot and ready to lash out with a righteous fury. There was a flash of blinding light and a crack of metal. When she could see again, Séverine's eyes fell upon the shards of Carver's shattered sword as the pieces scattered around their feet. He stared at them a moment, until her flail redirected his gaze.
Her swing took his helmet right off, sending Carver stumbling back. Séverine barely recognized him. His looks had been boyish once, she remembered, sometime before his sister had been killed. He looked twice his years now, with lyrium lining his facial structure, plates of it over the skin where his cheekbones and jawline were. Half of his hair had fallen out. Some of his teeth as well, though Séverine couldn't be sure it wasn't just her flail that had done that. The sight of him gave her pause. Something about just how tired he looked. Tired or not, he threw himself back at her, attacking with fists now that his sword was gone.
At last, Leon reappeared, free to assist with the intervention of their companions. No doubt Carver's strength was formidable with the enhancement of red lyrium, but Leon wasn't entirely without supernatural assistance himself, and the chunks of lyrium embedded in Carver's skin began to hiss and smoke, the Seeker's particular talent for destroying it manifesting in curls of red-black burnoff and the unpleasant sound of sizzling skin.
Leon blocked a heavy punch, turning it aside with his palm and delivering an uppercut right to Carver's chin, snapping his head back and sending him staggering. He lashed out with a blind haymaker; turning it aside was almost trivial for Leon, who was no doubt exhausted by this point but the much more experienced pugilist. Planting one of his boots at the center of Carver's chestplate, he shoved hard enough to topple the off-balance red templar entirely.
Séverine advanced on him, flail whooshing with each circular pass through the air. Carver was quick to roll onto his feet in a crouch, but he looked as though his head was no longer in the fight. His eyes darted around, to the dead behemoth, to his dying red templars, to Séverine's boots taking slow steps towards him.
His hands pushed off the ground, and he turned and ran, sprinting up the steps three at a time.
"I'm going after him," Séverine declared. The others would have to handle the clean up. Carver was not getting away this time. He was not going to organize anything that would hurt anyone else, ever again. If there was some secret exit to the keep that Séverine wasn't aware of, she was going to follow him there, and make sure he didn't make it out.
She followed him up to the upper levels of the keep, barely hearing sounds of catastrophic destruction in the distance. Stone crumbling and collapsing. The red templars here were in too great of disarray to slow her much; any that did found her shield and subsequently the ground. Carver didn't seem to be making for any exit she could imagine, instead just going up. She caught enough glimpses of him to stay on his trail.
She passed an armory, and outdoor forge, sprinted through another courtyard, maybe a place of worship once upon a time. Still Carver ran up, and Séverine's legs burned from the stairs, hefting the weight of her armor up higher yet. There were no red templars here anymore; all were on the lower levels or the outer area of the fortress. Up here it would've been quiet if not for the sound of armored boots on stone, and the pounding of Séverine's heart in her ears.
She ran through the war room, a familiar map of the fortress and the surrounding areas on the table inside. There was also a gauntlet and a pauldron, crusted with red lyrium, tossed aside on the floor. It was the first thing to make Séverine slow.
"Stop," Carver said, his voice coming from outside, on the balcony. "Just... stop for a minute. It's... it's almost quiet now."
Cautiously she stepped through the door, finding Carver seated with his back against the railing. It was a breaktaking view, the balcony overlooking the entire fortress below. The giant had smashed another of the red templar behemoths and destroyed the entire front gate, leaving a gaping hole in the defenses. The defenders were in a disorganized panic, still trying to recover from the giant fighting its way free. Séverine couldn't see it anymore, but she felt it was safe to say it had fled, away from both armies and into the mountains. The Inquisition was coming, the Queen's Companions leading the charge through the breach into the fortress. Chevaliers and templars and Inquisition regulars moved in behind them.
"This is what we've been reduced to," Carver said. "Mindless beasts, slaves addicted to our own chains." He swallowed thickly. "It takes everything, piece by piece. Your hands fight for the Elder One. Your legs take you to his enemies. Your mind can only think of what might please him. Your tongue forgets all words but his."
"Don't act like this wasn't your doing," Séverine spat back at him. "Like Kirkwall wasn't your crusade. You chose this."
He was silent for a long moment, and then he nodded once. "I chose it once. For Bethany, you know? Do you know how she died?"
She studied him, still expecting him to make a sudden move, maybe try to throw her over the railing. The fall would certainly kill her. "She died the night the mage rebellion began, didn't she?"
"Yes." Whatever else the corruption did to him, it didn't stop tears, as one slid down the side of his face. "Not by a templar's hand. It was the First Enchanter himself. Killed her in part of some blood-magic fueled madness before he could be put down. Her body couldn't be recovered because it had become... part of him." Even seeing what she had of the Red Templars, the thought made her shudder. She was fortunate to have only heard of the First Enchanter's fate, and not to have seen it herself.
"I had nothing left," he continued. "And I let myself believe a lie, that the red could make the Order stronger than ever before, strong enough to contain the mages, protect them from themselves. Then there was only the song. The lyrium enslaved us to his will. Whatever our ideals were before... it doesn't matter. Those were the first things the red stripped from us."
He unbuckled his chestpiece, pulling off his armor as best he was able. For a moment Séverine thought to help him, but still she couldn't manage to make herself move within arm's reach of him. Corrupted though he was, he'd looked impressive at the head of his army in Kirkwall. Here, now... he was broken. It was plain to see, even with how twisted his eyes were.
"Sometimes," Carver said, barely above a whisper, "Sometimes, at night, in the cold and the quiet, I can remember who I was. What I believed in. But then the morning comes, and the sun and the song burn it all away." Séverine had to imagine right now was one of those moments. When the will to fight for Corypheus melted away.
He met her eyes. "I'm... I'm sorry about Cullen. He was a good man. Gave me more chances than I deserved."
She wasn't sure where the tears had come from, but there was a hot sting in Séverine's eyes. She pulled her helmet off, blinking them away. "He did the same for me."
They were still for a moment, Cullen letting his head rest against the stone railing, Séverine standing still as a statue, debating putting an end to him. The handle of her flail was heavy in her hand, and it seemed like it would take a monumental effort to swing it down. She didn't want to believe him, to believe that the red lyrium had enslaved the very thoughts of all these templars, many of whom had experienced such horrors at the hands of magic. So many of them were not so different from her, wanting, really believing that if they just did something a little different, a little more brave, they could make a difference. Without people like Cullen, without Leon, Séverine could see a path that led to her sitting here, defeated and broken and corrupted, instead of Carver.
"Come back with me," she said, not knowing the words had been in her. "Come back to the world and we'll face this like honest templars. If justice for you turns out to be death, then... face it standing up."
He considered that for a moment, and then he did stand, though it took him great effort, and the leverage provided by gripping his hand against the railing. A cold breeze came in over the balcony. It seemed to give him some relief.
"Thank you," he said, "but there can be no coming back from this. Bethany would never forgive me for what I've become. The man I was would never forgive me."
She nodded, understanding that much. Even the things she'd done for Meredith still haunted her, years later. She would never dream of trivializing them, but compared to Carver's acts they could only ever seem minor. She didn't know what to do or say to Carver here; she only knew that the fire she'd had was out. The burning need to be the one to end his life. She no longer cared for it.
He understood that, too. "Thank you, Séverine. For putting an end to it."
He threw himself over the railing.
Séverine's eyes shut as he disappeared, but the sound of his body hitting the ground far below was unmistakable. She didn't need to look to know he was dead. A shaky breath escaped her. Her flail fell from her hand. She sank into a nearby chair, letting her shield slide off her arm, running her other hand over her face. The night air seemed to give Carver relief, but to her it simply felt cold.
It was done, dealt with. The goal she'd striven for for so long. Cullen was avenged, the Red Templars crushed. Why did she feel so empty?
A heavy sigh, amplified by the interior of a helmet, alerted her to Leon's presence in the doorway. It was hard to say how long he'd been there. Long enough to see Carver jump, it seemed, because he didn't ask what had happened, instead lifting his own helm off his head and setting it aside. He regarded the lyrium encrusted gauntlet on the floor for a long moment before turning his eyes to her. They looked sunken in the light, evidence perhaps of the toll the last four days had taken on him, still not fully recovered from his ordeals. But they were also clear, bright, evidence that he was no longer staring down the end of his life. At least not any more than the rest of them were.
"This is when the real work begins," he observed, shifting his attention over her shoulder to the view. His brow knit. "Not to belittle what we've done so far, or what it cost, but for the templars, for the Chantry—this is the beginning of the ordeal, not the end." It would take more than the elimination of the reds and their lyrium supply to restore the faith that had been lost. In them, and even in what they stood for. If it could be restored.
"Perhaps that's why it seems so unsatisfying." It sounded like a personal musing, but he could just as easily have been talking to her, from the words alone.
"I wanted to think of them like demons." She wasn't surprised to find that Leon had followed her, nor that he'd made it up here so quickly behind her. "Consumed by their red lyrium, made into monsters. Gone. To be forced to see the people underneath still there, fighting a battle they can't win..." She was reminded of the young red templar that had helped them in Kirkwall, only to succumb to the song in the end. It was horrifying knowledge, the thought that every red templar they'd fought against might have had a good person trapped inside. Someone that could've helped them rebuild after all this.
"Whatever they became, they were still our brothers and sisters. We had conflicts over magic, but none of them ever wanted to serve Corypheus. And yet they did, without even knowing his name." Below, the battle was concluding. The last of the red templars fell. Séverine could only hope those that managed to surrender could recover from the poisonous lyrium. That not all who fell to this were lost forever.
"I won't let anything like this happen again," she resolved. "Not while I have the power to do something about it."
Leon smiled a little at that, an expression that did not reach his eyes, which were obviously melancholy. "I believe that," he said quietly. "I believe you can do it. And I'll do everything in my power to help. Whether that's as Commander of the Inquisition, or Lord Seeker, or just a friend of yours. Seems as good a way as any to spend a life I didn't think I'd have." He expelled a heavy breath.
"So... don't forget to count on me sometimes, if you can manage it."
"You can count on that. I think I'll need all three." It was a terrifying thought to acknowledge what was next. That this would, in all likelihood, be the last battle she fought. That her entire life was about to change again, and that the responsibilities would only become greater.
She'd risen to every challenge so far. She'd rise to this one as well.
The traitors had been reduced to this, cowering in a frozen fortress waiting to die, pitifully seeking to take as many with them as they could. Séverine's templars had been reduced to a pitiful number in the south, but after this, all would know that they were still the rightful sword-arm of the Chantry. Still capable of defending the people from horrors like this.
They left the giant behind, wrapping around the edge of Suledin's inner keep towards the entrance. Perhaps there were others they could sneak into, but none would be as close to the supply of red lyrium they needed to destroy. It was about to get bloody, but with any luck the surprise of their attack and their skill in working together would see them through.
Two guards stood at the door, one on either side. More would be inside. Already Séverine could feel her stomach turning from the strength of the lyrium shards inside. She couldn't imagine what Rilien was putting up with. It wasn't like he'd ever complain, though. She glanced back, eyes making contact with the others through the slit of her helmet.
"This is as far as stealth takes us. We get in, secure the supply, set the devices, then we fight our way clear. Understood?" Preferably that way would take them through Carver, but Séverine was resolved not to be picky when these five other lives here were in the balance.
"Sounds like fun," Vesryn said, trying to shake something clear of his head. Some dizziness, perhaps. Séverine had been tempted to request he stay behind, but couldn't find the words. He wanted to fight to make a difference while he was still capable of it. She didn't understand what he was going through, but that much at least make perfect sense to her.
"You take the right, then. I'll take left. Khari, Leon, you're first through the door. We're right behind you."
They rushed out from cover, catching the door guards by surprise. Certainly they weren't expecting a sudden attack from within the fortress, when their enemies seemed to be camped out of range of even their horrors. Séverine's flail smashed into the already dented helmet of the red on the left, taking it clean off. The second pass of her weapon crunched in the man's skull. Vesryn's spear lanced up high, punching through the other's throat. She collapsed, clutching at her neck. Khari and Leon crashed into the double doors and burst them open, falling upon the first red templars they found inside. Romulus and Rilien followed in after them, with Séverine and Vesryn bringing up the rear. She closed the doors behind them for good measure. Might buy them a few seconds.
The lowest level of the keep was a courtyard area, a cobblestone path surrounding frozen dirt in a large rectangle, with stairs leading to the upper levels in the back corners on either side. There was an elaborate multi-tiered fountain in the center, the statue at the top of which had long been destroyed. Already a few enemies had been cut down, but the noise was impossible to hide, and more were coming swiftly down the stairs, archers and one horror setting up to rain projectiles down while the others closed in. They wouldn't want to remain here any longer than they needed to.
Fortunately, Rilien was nothing if not efficient, and he was the one in charge of setting the explosives on the red lyrium. As if by some internal sense for its location, he broke away from the group with purpose, heading into a room on their left. The door was closed but not locked, and he slipped quietly inside, a mere shadow on the wall next to the noise the others were making. No doubt he'd be out as soon as possible.
In the meantime, Khari was already moving forward to engage the oncoming foes. It was easy to see why: the more time they had to settle their positions, the harder it would be to push through them later. Her sword came down hard on one templar's lyrium-encrusted arm, severing it at the elbow. That was enough to give even one of the reds pause, and in her moment of recoil from the pain, the green blade flashed, punched into the soft skin beneath her jaw and withdrawn in a fast, precise single motion.
Leon crashed into the line next to her, fending off another red trying to get at her flank. The first heavy blow knocked the templar's helm right off. The second snapped his head back with such force that his neck broke, and he fell. Leon flexed his fingers once, as if shaking off a twinge, and dove back into the melee.
They were being closed in on too quickly. Thankfully the red templars they were initially faced with lacked organization, and they were easily able to cut them down. The archers were a nuisance they couldn't immediately deal with, but most of them were well-armored enough that the archers needed exceptionally well placed or lucky shots to do much damage. Séverine didn't know what was involved in the process of setting the explosives, but she was willing to bet that Rilien would work quickly.
No sooner did she have the thought than a heavy rumbling reached her ears, and her feet. A red templar behemoth smashed through the railing a floor above them and dropped down into the courtyard, the weight leaving cracks in the stones where it landed. Séverine figured there were more of them somewhere in Suledin, she'd just hoped none would be in the keep itself.
To add to that, a familiar figure stood atop one of the flights of stairs, observing the Inquisition intruders through the narrow slit of a full helm. Carver hefted his red lyrium greatsword in both hands, slowly descending beside his soldiers. This was going to get a lot messier.
"Romulus, Khari, I need you on that behemoth," she ordered. Of all of them, they had the weapons most suited to killing. Her own abilities could help, but if Carver was here, there was simply no way she wouldn't face him. Vesryn could guard Rilien's back well enough until he returned, and Leon could likely float where he was needed.
“You got it!" Khari kicked her latest kill off her sword and reoriented herself. It was hard to say for sure under the helm, but it was a fair bet that she was grinning madly. “Been waiting to kill one of these fuckers." No doubt at this moment the fight in Kirkwall was fresh in her mind—when one of the behemoth's kin had nearly taken her life, and then nearly hobbled her permanently.
She met this one head-on, the blade of her sword squealing against the massive red lyrium spikes making up its left arm. It swung for her with the faster, spearlike limb, but she turned aside, and the blow whiffed by her abdomen instead of connecting. Several heavy, ringing collisions followed, chunks of red lyrium splintering and flying in all directions as she chipped away at it with her enchanted sword. While it survived the blows, she didn't seem to be making much headway.
Romulus didn't have a physical weapon that could do much to the behemoth, but he had his marked hand, which was potentially even better. Of course, he had to get extremely close to use it, and the behemoth wasn't making that easy. It was dangerous to even get close to, especially with how much it was throwing around its great weight, and it periodically caused small bursts of red lyrium shards to uproot from the ground, with only a second's warning. For the moment, the Inquisitor was stuck looking for an opening, and making sure no other red templars threatened Khari's back while she dealt with the behemoth head on.
Carver didn't wait long to engage, and threw himself directly at Séverine, who met his charge in full. His sword smashed into her shield, rattling her arm, but she successfully turned it aside, landing a blow with her flail on his shoulder, which he managed to get in front of his face. It did less than she'd hoped, enabling Carver to spin out of it and bring the pommel of his weapon up into the facemask of her helm. Séverine was jarred back, forced to lift her weapon hand to adjust the helm so she could see again. The time spent was all Carver needed to make another swing, this one crashing heavily onto her shield as she got it up, and forcing Séverine down to a knee under the weight of it.
The weight bearing down on her was lifted when Leon intervened, stepping in close while Carver was distracted to take a swing at him. The Red Templars' leader avoided the strike, but doing so forced him to give up his positioning—and his chance to strike again at Séverine. He aimed a slash for for Leon instead, sword whistling dully through the air. A grating clang—the Commander deflected with the back of one of his heavy gauntlets. The collision still forced him a step back, a soft grunt escaping him as she shored up his feet.
Khari seemed to be attempting to drive the behemoth back in the direction they'd come, but herding something as large as one of those was no easy task. She had to take three steps and three swings for every one of its, and tireless as she was, that was no trivial amount of work. The reckless fury of her initial swings quickly streamlined into something just as brutal, but much more efficient; she worked methodically to draw it into heavy blows, darting around them and striking at whatever weaker parts of itself it left exposed.
One particular effort was especially good: the behemoth stabbed forward for her midsection, but she twisted to the side, and the blade-arm caught in the stone wall, slipping into a gap between slabs and punching right through the mortar. This or something like it must have been part of the plan, because Khari seemed prepared. “Rom, now!"
Romulus threw aside the red templar he'd been killing to take advantage of the opening, going for the behemoth's backside. His mark was already crackling with energy when he got there, and he barely had to place his palm on the monstrosity's lyrium-encrusted lower back before there was a blast of energy. It sent chunks of red lyrium rocks soaring into the air and showering down on their heads, like some kind of red hail. The behemoth roared in what had to be pain and rage, the area on its back now appearing significantly softer and more vulnerable, if it were to be hit.
It wouldn't be held in one spot any longer, though, as it brought its massive club arm down on the other. It was apparently too thoroughly lodged to be removed quickly enough, so the behemoth snapped it off at the end, a grunt of pain the only indication that it was bothered by the now-shortened limb. The arm swiftly came free and whipped around, bludgeoning Romulus away. He skidded on his back across the hard frozen dirt, but didn't appear to be too injured.
Séverine had risen back to her feet, and she charged Carver again, slamming her shield into his side while he was occupied with Leon. The hit knocked Carver flat onto his back, and Séverine followed up with a downward swing of her flail, the weight behind it sending his guard aside with a clang. She descended on him, bringing the rim of her shield down towards his throat, but he abandoned his blade in time to catch it with his bare hands. They were close enough that she could clearly make out his eyes underneath the helmet, red-tinged and focused.
His strength was enough to throw her attempt backwards, and a hard kick caught Séverine in the chest, throwing her onto her own back and giving Carver time to get his sword back in hand. More red templars came in from the side to attack Leon and give their commander time to get to his feet. Vesryn intercepted one of them, but they were appearing faster than they could be killed.
Khari was still working the behemoth backwards, strategically giving ground and getting them both into the hallway beyond. A flash of white could only be Rilien's reappearance. Whatever words they exchanged were too far to hear, but there was little mistaking the way they both broke into a sprint immediately afterwards, diving under the confused creature's arms and rolling to their feet.
The reason was obvious: a moment later, the first tremors shook the floor, a split-second of warning before the first thunderous bang split the air and shook the castle to its foundations. A second followed hard on its heels, and then a third, a massive plume of flame belching from the open doorway into the storage room. It caught the behemoth unprepared, the first explosion taking it to a knee. The second blasted a chunk of masonry into its center mass, and the third bathed it in the fire, which funneled into the hallway, reaching the arch they'd come through and spewing several meters into the courtyard. It looked like the back of Khari's armor was scorched, but fortunately the damage to their allies was no worse than that.
Both of them crashed into the red templar line, falling in with Vesryn to keep the reinforcements off Leon.
The morale of the red templars had been flagging before, and with the utter destruction of their lyrium supply, no few of them simply stopped fighting, looking on at the destruction with expressions that were difficult to read. Not the kind of abject horror Séverine expected... more of an emptiness. No matter what happened here, this was the end.
The roar of rage from outside only cemented that, footfalls heavier than the behemoth's growing quieter as they carried the giant away from the keep. Even from here they could hear the first massive crash of its club coming down on someone unlucky enough to get in its way.
Carver wasn't done, but the timing of the explosion gave Séverine enough time to get back to her feet, and she met him head-on again, her friends cutting through soldiers and horrors and shadows around her. No amount of corruption would overcome her own honed templar abilities, and when Carver's sword met her shield, he found the bulwark white hot and ready to lash out with a righteous fury. There was a flash of blinding light and a crack of metal. When she could see again, Séverine's eyes fell upon the shards of Carver's shattered sword as the pieces scattered around their feet. He stared at them a moment, until her flail redirected his gaze.
Her swing took his helmet right off, sending Carver stumbling back. Séverine barely recognized him. His looks had been boyish once, she remembered, sometime before his sister had been killed. He looked twice his years now, with lyrium lining his facial structure, plates of it over the skin where his cheekbones and jawline were. Half of his hair had fallen out. Some of his teeth as well, though Séverine couldn't be sure it wasn't just her flail that had done that. The sight of him gave her pause. Something about just how tired he looked. Tired or not, he threw himself back at her, attacking with fists now that his sword was gone.
At last, Leon reappeared, free to assist with the intervention of their companions. No doubt Carver's strength was formidable with the enhancement of red lyrium, but Leon wasn't entirely without supernatural assistance himself, and the chunks of lyrium embedded in Carver's skin began to hiss and smoke, the Seeker's particular talent for destroying it manifesting in curls of red-black burnoff and the unpleasant sound of sizzling skin.
Leon blocked a heavy punch, turning it aside with his palm and delivering an uppercut right to Carver's chin, snapping his head back and sending him staggering. He lashed out with a blind haymaker; turning it aside was almost trivial for Leon, who was no doubt exhausted by this point but the much more experienced pugilist. Planting one of his boots at the center of Carver's chestplate, he shoved hard enough to topple the off-balance red templar entirely.
Séverine advanced on him, flail whooshing with each circular pass through the air. Carver was quick to roll onto his feet in a crouch, but he looked as though his head was no longer in the fight. His eyes darted around, to the dead behemoth, to his dying red templars, to Séverine's boots taking slow steps towards him.
His hands pushed off the ground, and he turned and ran, sprinting up the steps three at a time.
"I'm going after him," Séverine declared. The others would have to handle the clean up. Carver was not getting away this time. He was not going to organize anything that would hurt anyone else, ever again. If there was some secret exit to the keep that Séverine wasn't aware of, she was going to follow him there, and make sure he didn't make it out.
She followed him up to the upper levels of the keep, barely hearing sounds of catastrophic destruction in the distance. Stone crumbling and collapsing. The red templars here were in too great of disarray to slow her much; any that did found her shield and subsequently the ground. Carver didn't seem to be making for any exit she could imagine, instead just going up. She caught enough glimpses of him to stay on his trail.
She passed an armory, and outdoor forge, sprinted through another courtyard, maybe a place of worship once upon a time. Still Carver ran up, and Séverine's legs burned from the stairs, hefting the weight of her armor up higher yet. There were no red templars here anymore; all were on the lower levels or the outer area of the fortress. Up here it would've been quiet if not for the sound of armored boots on stone, and the pounding of Séverine's heart in her ears.
She ran through the war room, a familiar map of the fortress and the surrounding areas on the table inside. There was also a gauntlet and a pauldron, crusted with red lyrium, tossed aside on the floor. It was the first thing to make Séverine slow.
"Stop," Carver said, his voice coming from outside, on the balcony. "Just... stop for a minute. It's... it's almost quiet now."
Cautiously she stepped through the door, finding Carver seated with his back against the railing. It was a breaktaking view, the balcony overlooking the entire fortress below. The giant had smashed another of the red templar behemoths and destroyed the entire front gate, leaving a gaping hole in the defenses. The defenders were in a disorganized panic, still trying to recover from the giant fighting its way free. Séverine couldn't see it anymore, but she felt it was safe to say it had fled, away from both armies and into the mountains. The Inquisition was coming, the Queen's Companions leading the charge through the breach into the fortress. Chevaliers and templars and Inquisition regulars moved in behind them.
"This is what we've been reduced to," Carver said. "Mindless beasts, slaves addicted to our own chains." He swallowed thickly. "It takes everything, piece by piece. Your hands fight for the Elder One. Your legs take you to his enemies. Your mind can only think of what might please him. Your tongue forgets all words but his."
"Don't act like this wasn't your doing," Séverine spat back at him. "Like Kirkwall wasn't your crusade. You chose this."
He was silent for a long moment, and then he nodded once. "I chose it once. For Bethany, you know? Do you know how she died?"
She studied him, still expecting him to make a sudden move, maybe try to throw her over the railing. The fall would certainly kill her. "She died the night the mage rebellion began, didn't she?"
"Yes." Whatever else the corruption did to him, it didn't stop tears, as one slid down the side of his face. "Not by a templar's hand. It was the First Enchanter himself. Killed her in part of some blood-magic fueled madness before he could be put down. Her body couldn't be recovered because it had become... part of him." Even seeing what she had of the Red Templars, the thought made her shudder. She was fortunate to have only heard of the First Enchanter's fate, and not to have seen it herself.
"I had nothing left," he continued. "And I let myself believe a lie, that the red could make the Order stronger than ever before, strong enough to contain the mages, protect them from themselves. Then there was only the song. The lyrium enslaved us to his will. Whatever our ideals were before... it doesn't matter. Those were the first things the red stripped from us."
He unbuckled his chestpiece, pulling off his armor as best he was able. For a moment Séverine thought to help him, but still she couldn't manage to make herself move within arm's reach of him. Corrupted though he was, he'd looked impressive at the head of his army in Kirkwall. Here, now... he was broken. It was plain to see, even with how twisted his eyes were.
"Sometimes," Carver said, barely above a whisper, "Sometimes, at night, in the cold and the quiet, I can remember who I was. What I believed in. But then the morning comes, and the sun and the song burn it all away." Séverine had to imagine right now was one of those moments. When the will to fight for Corypheus melted away.
He met her eyes. "I'm... I'm sorry about Cullen. He was a good man. Gave me more chances than I deserved."
She wasn't sure where the tears had come from, but there was a hot sting in Séverine's eyes. She pulled her helmet off, blinking them away. "He did the same for me."
They were still for a moment, Cullen letting his head rest against the stone railing, Séverine standing still as a statue, debating putting an end to him. The handle of her flail was heavy in her hand, and it seemed like it would take a monumental effort to swing it down. She didn't want to believe him, to believe that the red lyrium had enslaved the very thoughts of all these templars, many of whom had experienced such horrors at the hands of magic. So many of them were not so different from her, wanting, really believing that if they just did something a little different, a little more brave, they could make a difference. Without people like Cullen, without Leon, Séverine could see a path that led to her sitting here, defeated and broken and corrupted, instead of Carver.
"Come back with me," she said, not knowing the words had been in her. "Come back to the world and we'll face this like honest templars. If justice for you turns out to be death, then... face it standing up."
He considered that for a moment, and then he did stand, though it took him great effort, and the leverage provided by gripping his hand against the railing. A cold breeze came in over the balcony. It seemed to give him some relief.
"Thank you," he said, "but there can be no coming back from this. Bethany would never forgive me for what I've become. The man I was would never forgive me."
She nodded, understanding that much. Even the things she'd done for Meredith still haunted her, years later. She would never dream of trivializing them, but compared to Carver's acts they could only ever seem minor. She didn't know what to do or say to Carver here; she only knew that the fire she'd had was out. The burning need to be the one to end his life. She no longer cared for it.
He understood that, too. "Thank you, Séverine. For putting an end to it."
He threw himself over the railing.
Séverine's eyes shut as he disappeared, but the sound of his body hitting the ground far below was unmistakable. She didn't need to look to know he was dead. A shaky breath escaped her. Her flail fell from her hand. She sank into a nearby chair, letting her shield slide off her arm, running her other hand over her face. The night air seemed to give Carver relief, but to her it simply felt cold.
It was done, dealt with. The goal she'd striven for for so long. Cullen was avenged, the Red Templars crushed. Why did she feel so empty?
A heavy sigh, amplified by the interior of a helmet, alerted her to Leon's presence in the doorway. It was hard to say how long he'd been there. Long enough to see Carver jump, it seemed, because he didn't ask what had happened, instead lifting his own helm off his head and setting it aside. He regarded the lyrium encrusted gauntlet on the floor for a long moment before turning his eyes to her. They looked sunken in the light, evidence perhaps of the toll the last four days had taken on him, still not fully recovered from his ordeals. But they were also clear, bright, evidence that he was no longer staring down the end of his life. At least not any more than the rest of them were.
"This is when the real work begins," he observed, shifting his attention over her shoulder to the view. His brow knit. "Not to belittle what we've done so far, or what it cost, but for the templars, for the Chantry—this is the beginning of the ordeal, not the end." It would take more than the elimination of the reds and their lyrium supply to restore the faith that had been lost. In them, and even in what they stood for. If it could be restored.
"Perhaps that's why it seems so unsatisfying." It sounded like a personal musing, but he could just as easily have been talking to her, from the words alone.
"I wanted to think of them like demons." She wasn't surprised to find that Leon had followed her, nor that he'd made it up here so quickly behind her. "Consumed by their red lyrium, made into monsters. Gone. To be forced to see the people underneath still there, fighting a battle they can't win..." She was reminded of the young red templar that had helped them in Kirkwall, only to succumb to the song in the end. It was horrifying knowledge, the thought that every red templar they'd fought against might have had a good person trapped inside. Someone that could've helped them rebuild after all this.
"Whatever they became, they were still our brothers and sisters. We had conflicts over magic, but none of them ever wanted to serve Corypheus. And yet they did, without even knowing his name." Below, the battle was concluding. The last of the red templars fell. Séverine could only hope those that managed to surrender could recover from the poisonous lyrium. That not all who fell to this were lost forever.
"I won't let anything like this happen again," she resolved. "Not while I have the power to do something about it."
Leon smiled a little at that, an expression that did not reach his eyes, which were obviously melancholy. "I believe that," he said quietly. "I believe you can do it. And I'll do everything in my power to help. Whether that's as Commander of the Inquisition, or Lord Seeker, or just a friend of yours. Seems as good a way as any to spend a life I didn't think I'd have." He expelled a heavy breath.
"So... don't forget to count on me sometimes, if you can manage it."
"You can count on that. I think I'll need all three." It was a terrifying thought to acknowledge what was next. That this would, in all likelihood, be the last battle she fought. That her entire life was about to change again, and that the responsibilities would only become greater.
She'd risen to every challenge so far. She'd rise to this one as well.