Sickle-cell — Roleplayer Guild

Celica sat in the Warden camp, drinking some herbal tea made by a delightful elf trying to lighten the spirits after another horrific night. Shrieks had attempted to take them by surprise again - like they had a week prior, resulting in many deaths - but had failed due to detections webs set up to cover the path down into the dark. Seeing their failed trap, the darkspawn sent another wave of combatants instead, until they could almost drown in Genlocks.

It had been hard, but over the first two weeks, the Gray Wardens had set up a wooden spike wall around the hole, leaving only a single path in or out. At the top of that path was their encampment. Scattered tents, benches, weapon racks and bags littered the area. People wandered around, looking like zombies. Sleep was one commodity that was in short supply. The darkspawn assaults had been almost endless, drawing back to recover their strength before charging once more. Several mercenaries had arrived over the last few days, at least, so holding out wasn’t completely impossible. 

The Warden-Commander grimaced. Just highly unlikely. 

Through the air drifted the scent of burning flesh, from the pyres at the mouth of the camp. Any dead had to be burned, to prevent the darkspawn corruption from infecting the living via the corpses, but it was never a pleasant job. Especially at supper time. 

Across the table from her, sat a young Tevinter mercenary. The man ate a bowl of soup with bread with incredible speed, and her stomach rumbled slightly. Mages were on double rations, due to the massive amount of energy they consumed when casting spells. Celica couldn’t complain, though, because those very spells were the only reason any of them were still alive in the first place. If it wasn’t for his detection webs, many people would have died last night. As they had a week ago. 

Rising, Celica made her way outside, fearing the smell of food would cause her to vomit. The first attack involving shrieks had cost a third of their soldiers, and was the  reason they now relied on mercenaries. Sleeping was hard enough with the constant attacks, throw the nightmares on top and it became an impossible task. 

Looking over the hole, the Warden-Commander shuddered. Maker knows what’s down there. It was certainly impressive in size, and the ground sloped down into it in the form of a long natural pathway, vanishing into a tunnel at the end. Wooden barricades had been set up in three lines, slowing any darkspawn assault while they broke them down or circumvented them. Beyond those, lay various unseen magical traps and detection webs. The soldiers had, for want of a better name, took to calling it The Verge. Even further down was an old dwarven thaig, apparently, but you couldn’t see it from here. A handful of smaller holes were dotted around the big one, and Celica had to guess the thaig was visible from one of those. Luckily, darkspawn couldn’t climb, so no defense was necessary for them. 

Sun setting over the horizon, a steady rumble could be heard. It seemed to vibrate through the very ground. Despite her heavy black armour, Celica took off like a bolt of lightning towards her tent.

“Darkspawn! Get ready!” The woman quickly grabbed her sword and shield, running to the top of the path, behind the barricades. People from all over scrambled to get their equipment, tripping over in the rush. A shield-wall formed beside Celica, behind them stood the bulk of the soldiers present. On the ridges either side of the descending path, archers lined the walls. Several more rested atop wooden towers at the very top of The Verge. Behind the soldiers, mages waited to heal wounds or summon The Maker’s wrath, depending on circumstances. At the very back, three mages waited. Two belonged to the Warden’s ranks, and the third was the Tevinter boy from earlier. Each stood within a very elaborate magical circle, waiting to see if reinforcements would be required. Celica could only pray they weren’t. 

At first, she couldn’t figure out why the darkspawn had attacked earlier. Waiting until night had worked well for them, as reduced visibility was an issue. Soldiers had taken steps to prevent that, however, setting up lamps and oil that could be set fire to in extreme cases. It made sense that the darkspawn simply didn’t want to wait. Attacking later wouldn’t give them any advantages, now.

Standing in the shield-wall, the reason was painfully obvious. The sun was setting, and blinding the troops. It would have been just as easy to fight blind. One of the nearby mages gave a small chuckle, as he too realised the situation. 

“Clever, clever creatures.” Raising his hand to the sky, a single word droned over the soldiers. “Orage.” A peel of thunder cracked overhead, as clouds circled and grew overhead. The storm covered the entire sky, obscuring the low sun.  

The sound of marauding feet grew closer. Rocketing explosions sounded from below, accompanied by now-visible splashes of light from the magical traps just inside the mouth of The Verge. Darkspawn poured from the deep, Hurlocks and Genlocks numbering hundreds. As they approached the barricade, Celica commanded the archers to get ready. 

However, the enemies didn’t stop to break down the obstacle. The first Hurlocks to reach them simply dived onto the spiked wood, driving it deep into their flesh. From the injuries sustained, they died almost instantly. Surviving darkspawn then using the bodies of their dead comrades to climb over the barricades without delay. Giving a repeat performance on the second and third sets of spikes, the advancing army soon had a clear shot at the Warden camp. The display of selfless and violent sacrifice unnerved Celica, enough to give an order the three mages at the back were waiting for.

“Start the summoning! The rest of you, with me.” Giving a slight smile, the mages began weaving the spells. For everyone else, they stormed forward to meet the darkspawn. Celica met a Hurlock head-on, blocking a slash from it’s sword, before beheading it in one clean sweep. 

Circles began to glow underneath each of the mages. Summoning forth magical creatures and sustaining their form in the rain was going to damn hard. Gathering the power needed, the mages spoke the Name of their target, and several shapes took form under the flickering firelights. One of the less confident Wardens summoned forth a Greater Shade, a writhing mass of shadow. The Tevinter boy called forth a demon of Despair, which looked like a small child huddled in a dark cowl. In a bright pink flash, the final Warden called forth a Desire demon. Bounding into the fray, the three demons each pressed the defense in different ways. 

Despair began to call icy blasts of power, freezing darkspawn solid in the rain. Blazing hot lances of fire came from Desire, passionate and powerful. The Shade danced around the battlefield, taking potshots and hampering the enemy. Meanwhile, the soldiers clashed in close combat with their foe. Noise of the battle roared out, and no-one heard the approaching monstrosity. 

An ogre bolted out of the shadows towards the barricades, aiming to crash straight on through. Celica noticed the giant too late to respond. 

But she didn’t need to.

Silently sailing through the air, an arrow crashed into the ogre’s kneecap. Hitting the bullseye, the wooden shaft jammed between the two bones which connected at that joint. Without even having time to react, the beast crashed down on top of the first barricade. The source of the arrows was Celica’s second-in-command in Ferelden. Giving her commander a curt nod, she returned to scanning the field for other high-profile threats. A Warden mage began to exercise control over the black ichor that served as blood within darkspawn. It covered the battlefield, and made for an impressive weapon. Wordlessly focusing the power, ichor tendrils rose from the ground. They wrapped around the fallen ogre, restricting its ability to get back up, despite it’s best attempt. Hunched over, one tendril grasped the neck of the beast, and a second mage froze the liquid in place with a single word. 

Running up the solid blood, a drunken, fiery-haired dwarf flew into the air. “Eat my axe, you thunderhumping son-of-a-whore!” The sickening sound of cracking bone filled the air, as a giant two-handed axe drove straight down into the ogre’s skull. Oghren gave a triumphant yell, as the Desire demon appeared behind him. It caressed his cheek, before planting a soft kiss on the lips of the ogre. In a flare of light, it was gone. Stirring to life once again, the darkspawn rumbled and stood, giving a bloodcurdling roar. 

The darkspawn army were clearly taken aback by this sudden flip in the flow of the battle. Routing, some began to flee, until a second wave of attackers rushed from the deep. Behind this much larger auxiliary force came two Hurlock Alphas, three Genlock Alphas, and two additional ogres. Celica watched over the scene with disbelief.

Ah. She thought. This is going to be one of those nights.
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