Part 1: Maker Save the Queen
This is the tale of the man who seeks to throw off divine fate and break the endless cycle of violence.
Having gathered an army of all the races of Thedas, Taiyama and his companions come with Arl Eamon to the very seat of their adversary, Denerim, to seek a peaceful resolution to the Civil War. While Eamon prepares for the meeting of all of the nobles of Denerim, the Landsmeet, Taiyama and his companions break into the Arl of Denerim’s estate in order to free Queen Anora as a possible ally.
“This is your last chance, Howe.”
In a dark dungeon underneath the stronghold of the Arl of Denerim, the smell of blood and death filling the air, two armed groups faced off in the tense calm before the storm. On one side were Taiyama Surana and all of the people he believed he could bring in a stealth mission without standing out too much: Zevran, Leliana, Wynne, and Alistair. On the other, Howe and his soldiers, including two mages—one of which currently operated the enchantment that locked Queen Anora away in her room.
And Taiyama Surana was offering Rendon Howe, slayer of the Couslands and torturer of fellow Grey Wardens, mercy of a sort: “Please, don’t make it come to this. If you give up now I’ll make sure you get a fair trial. You can’t defeat us.”
Howe scoffed. “Do you really think I’m just going to surrender when you’re in my fortress surrounded by my guards? You’re a fool for even asking…”
Taiyama sighed exasperatedly and glanced over at Leliana while drawing his staff. “Why do they always choose to fight? They never win! It’s such a pointless waste of life!”
Leliana smiled roguishly. “Reminds me of what that Sergeant said: ‘And people actually voluntarily attack you? What, are they just stupid?’”
Taiyama smirked. “Indeed…” He brought his attention back to Rendon Howe. “All right, then…” He pointed his staff at the man and prepared himself. “LET’S END THIS!”
First blood belonged to Taiyama, who shot a fireball into the crowd of archers, all but one who managed to survive it and get back up. Taiyama had learned by now of the dangerous ability of archers to shoot multiple arrows to, if not kill, then at least stun or debilitate a foe—a very refined technique that Leliana had dubbed “Scattershot”—and sought to keep the archers occupied while their own group spread out.
Speaking of Scattershot, Leliana was the second to strike, using the technique on one of the mages and a swordsman who protected him. The second mage, however, was able to unleash a fireball at Taiyama and Wynne, who had yet to separate adequately. Taiyama braced himself, mentally and physically.
The force of the magic slammed straight into him like he was being hit in the chest with a shield by a very buff warrior. The flames flew out in all directions, singing his clothes and burning his skin. Yet for the first time in all of the times he’d been hit with that spell, Taiyama didn’t fall over from the force. Unlike Wynne, who lacked his youthful vitality, he slid back about half a foot but stood his ground. This whole journey to this point had done nothing if not harden him, physically and mentally.
While this had been going on, Alistair had been mopping up the archers while Zevran traded blows with Howe himself.
“Your loyalties are remarkably…fluid, Assassin, to join up with the very man you were paid to kill,” Howe said as he stabbed towards Zevran’s chest, his voice smooth yet venomous.
Zevran parried excellent, both physically and verbally: “And yours are nonexistent, figlio di puttana, to slaughter the Couslands as you did. At least I am loyal to those who do not try to kill me.”
Howe merely glowered in response and resumed attacking Zevran.
Besides… Zevran thought as he parried one of Howe’s attacks and kicked the noble backwards. I have a true purpose now. If for no other reason than to simply support the man who has saved my life so many times…has led us through all this…and…and is my first true friend. That’s enough for me...
Zevran set his determination towards his grim task, renewed with vigor. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins and felt the familiar burst of almost manic energy that accompanied it. He began ruthlessly attacking, pushing Howe ever forward, never letting the noble strike back. His strikes were quick and precise, ever true to his training, and Howe began to be steadily worn down from fatigue and the few non-fatal cuts Zevran managed to land.
In the end, as Zevran backed Howe into a corner, he unleashed a final coup de grace: he kicked Howe powerfully in-between the legs, causing him to kneel over in pain. Zevran quickly followed this up by running Howe through and twisting the blade within before taking it back out.
Howe watched in abject horror as his own entrails spilled onto the cold dungeon floor and his own thick red blood ran over his hands. A sudden wave of weakness brought him to his knees and he coughed up blood so dark it almost seemed completely black.
Howe looked up at the five man band—who had finished his servants and were gathering around him—that had done this. The simple rabble of mages, knife-ears, and filthy commoners that brought down the king-maker, the power behind Loghain’s new and glorious reign! The look in his eyes quickly morphed from fear to anger and hatred.
“Maker spit on you!” Howe cursed then let out a few weak, raspy coughs. “I…d…deserved…MORE!”
Howe finally collapsed with a wet thump on the hard dungeon floor, naught but the pool of his own blood by his side in death. The light vanished from his eyes and the great pater familias of the noble house of Howe died, frightened and alone, in the very place where he had inflicted the same torment on so many others.
There was a brief moment of silence as they gazed upon the body of their fallen foe. Taiyama wordlessly flipped Howe’s body over on his back and clasped the man’s bloody hands together over the gaping wound in his stomach—a bizarre contrast between bloody carnage and the peaceful repose of the dead. He knelt and began to pray—this time Alistair, Leliana, and Wynne all bowed their heads, closed their eyes, and silently joined in:
“Death is always a sad affair…every life is precious. May the Maker take mercy on your soul, Howe—more mercy than you showed to your captives. If in the end you are judged and found wanting, may the time spent wandering the Fade not drive you to further madness, but quiet the demons that plagued your heart and drove you to such barbarism; may you find peace. Amen.”
Zevran fidgeted and felt quite uneasy during the eulogy. He supposed it was a small blessing that all of the others had their eyes closed and didn’t see him refuse to pray—then again, since when did he really care about what the others thought? All the same, this kind of mercy was completely alien to what he had been taught growing up. Desiring mercy for an opponent seemed the height of foolishness—after all, had not Howe tried to kill them all and tortured many people? Then again…Taiyama had always been so merciful. He had certainly granted him mercy. He supposed that was just part of what made Taiyama Taiyama. Maybe it was also part of what made him so powerful…
Taiyama turned and led the group out of dungeons back up towards the castle. As they left Howe’s dungeon room behind, Alistair verbalized what Zevran had been thinking: “Nice speech and all, Taiyama, but…do you really think Howe deserved mercy? Just think about all he did to the Grey Wardens, to innocent people!”
Taiyama glanced back and smiled. “Oh, come on, Alistair. Everyone deserves mercy, no matter what they’ve done. Sten and Zevran killed innocents before but look at all they’ve done for us!” Here Zevran gave an overly elaborate, dramatic bow along. “They’re going to help us save more lives than they ever took. Everyone deserves mercy and a chance to atone for their crimes.”
Alistair’s brows furrowed but he did not respond. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that he disagreed—the templar had never been good at hiding his emotions.
****************
Taiyama knocked on the door of Queen Anora’s room. “All right, Your Highness. The field’s been taken down, you can come out now.”
“Oh, thank the Maker!” came Anora’s muffled voice through the polished oak wood of the door.
Her Highness, sovereign queen of the nation of Ferelden, came out of the room clanking in the armor of a common guard—though surprisingly she seemed to wear it rather well.
Taiyama smiled crookedly. “Aren’t you a little short for a stor-…err, for a guard?”
Anora raised an eyebrow and cocked the slightest of smirks. “Is that supposed to be ironic?”
“All right, enough shenanigans.” Taiyama turned around and began walking as fast as he could towards the exit of Howe’s estate. “We need to move quickly. I don’t know if any of the guards up here heard the ruckus we made in the dungeon and alerted more guards—or, Maker forbid, Loghain himself—so we need to move quick-“ He led the others to the first room—escape through the front door just in sight!—which was filled with archers, guards, and a very enraged Ser Cauthrien. “llleeeeeeea’sharan,” Taiyama finished his sentenced with a rather profane elven curse. He glanced back exhaustedly at his compatriots. “Why is nothing every simple?”
“Halt!” Ser Cauthrien exclaimed, sounding very official. “You are under arrest, surrounded, and outnumbered three-to-one. I suggest you lay down your weapons and surrender.”
Taiyama scoffed. “What, when freedom is just a stone’s through away?” He stepped forward and pointed at Cauthrien. “No, no, no, I have a counteroffer! You surrender and let us pass or we’ll be regrettably forced to go through you!”
Cauthrien was visibly taken aback by this—of all the things she might have expected, this is the last one… In a vain attempt to make this brash elf see reason she gestured to the guards that surrounded them on all but one side. “Did you not hear me when I said you were outnumbered three-to-one? Your bluffs certainly leave something to be desired, Warden.”
“Bluffs? Hah!”
I don’t think I can make Cauthrien flinch or back down… She’s too devoted to Loghain. Taiyama thought, analyzing the situation. But the cannon-fodder… I might be able to psych them out. Even if they still attack, if I can put the fear of the Maker in their hearts we’d have a huge advantage—one we certainly need here.
“You just don’t get it, do you…?” Taiyama pointed upwards, making sure that his every movement and word was expressive and dramatic to strike awe in the hearts of the guards. “We have traveled the entire breadth of Ferelden, defeating a darkspawn for every star in the sky! We’ve crowned kings, destroyed Pride Demons, and slain ancient High Dragons older than Ferelden itself, all in the quest to gather allies to fight the Blight!” Taiyama soldiered forward, doing his best to ignore Leliana’s giggling in the background—a bad habit she had started after the Circle tower; she claimed she found Taiyama’s speeches cute—CUTE!—which never failed to embarrass the mage. “When you hear of the legendary and fabled exploits of the last two Grey Wardens of Ferelden, Taiyama and Alistair, they’re talking about us!” He dramatically pointed at Cauthrien, putting the full force of his body weight into the gesture. “And I assure you, every last exploit you hear of is true! DO YOU SERIOUSLY THINK THAT WE COULD BE STOPPED BY THE LIKES OF YOOOU?!”
Taiyama maintained the pointing at Cauthrien and let a moment of pregnant silence pass for dramatic impact.
“Now…I ask again… Will you surrender and let us pass peacefully by? Or do you choose to meet your Maker this day?”
Ser Cauthrien balked. “Your displays don’t scare me, Warden. And don’t think you’ve somehow awed my men into reverence for you. These are some of my best-trained tro-!”
“Uh, excuse me…” one of the archers interrupted.
“What is it, my good man?” Taiyama asked, smiling warmly and preparing to use all his charisma to sway this man—he wanted to be feared, not hated, after all.
“Uh…is it true that you actually fought Flemeth?”
“Haha! Yes, actually, we did fight her in the Korcari Wilds. Being a shapeshifter, she actually turned into a High Dragon in order to fight us.” He snickered a bit and gestured at Alistair. “This poor bastard had to keep her attention at the front by himself while Leliana, Wynne, and I stayed back and damaged her with spells and arrows.”
“It’s true,” Alistair chimed in. “I still have nightmares about being tossed around like a rag-doll by Flemeth, you know. Though for some reason the dragon always has Morrigan’s face in the end…”
Taiyama burst out laughing. “Oh, man,” he said while wiping a tear from his eye. “If Morrigan heard you say that, she’d murder you. She’s already sensitive enough about her nose.” He smirked. “Guess I have some blackmail material for you, eh, Blood Brother? Come to think of it, Hunter hasn’t had a bath in a long ti-“
“Enough!” Cauthrien interrupted—quite rudely, really. “Attack!”
Arrows were immediately loosed from their bows and whistled towards the party, striking all of them—but fortunately, none were fatal.
“Lea’sharan!” Taiyama swore as he pulled an arrow out of his hip, using the same elven curse as before. “Fall back to the door! Alistair, stay in front of us and keep your shield up!” he ordered as he froze both Cauthrien and the melee warriors in ice and began retreating backwards.
Alistair took his place a meter back from the doorway in order to funnel in the melee soldiers and keep the archers as confined as possible in their field of fire. As per Taiyama’s orders, Zevran took out his bow and joined Leliana in getting on top of tables and such to fire over Alistair’s shoulder at the enemies. Wynne and Taiyama stayed in the back, healing and doing as much magical damage to their foes as possible.
The archers fired into the doorway as the warriors thawed, most of their arrows striking Alistair’s shield but all too many hitting Alistair in one place or another. The ranged attackers in the back continued to try to pick them off—with some success—but they made sure to keep mobile and take turns firing into the door to both A. maintain a constant rate of fire and B. give those badly hurt by the crossfire in their time at the door a chance to be healed by the mages. It was a well-practiced, masterful routine and Alistair was taking the brunt of it.
Soon enough, however, Cauthrien and the warriors thawed, the rain of arrows ceased, and they swarmed forward. Zevran took out his melee weapons at Taiyama’s order—being charged with killing any who got past Alistair.
Many soldiers fell simply getting to Alistair, but the archers had done their jobs. A few heavy swipes from Cauthrien’s massive greatsword were more than enough to overpower Alistair, weary from blood loss. The stalwart warrior collapsed and the rest of the enemies marched over him towards Zevran.
The assassin held his own quite well, not as fatigued by an endless rain of arrows. However, he was not a fighter like Alistair who could hold fast and withstand massive amounts of punishment—his fighting style relied on dexterity and maneuverability, the latter of which was robbed from him by the tight spaces of the hall they fought in. He killed three men and gave Cauthrien a rather nasty gash on her face before being overwhelmed by pure numbers and Cauthrien’s skill with her greatsword.
NO! If only I had a few more seconds, I could have taken them all out at once! Taiyama cursed mentally and had to quit focusing on a spell he had been preparing.
“Damn it! FALL BACK! THIS WAY!” Taiyama shouted to his remaining companions, Wynne and Leliana, and led the way into an adjoining corridor.
But the soldiers were too quick. Wynne and Leliana were overrun and only Taiyama alone made it into the corridor—he even received a very deep gash that cut the muscles in his left arm as he ran away.
Taiyama ran for a few meters before coming to a screeching halt in what appeared to be one of the servant’s bedrooms. “Heh… No way out…” He used his still-functioning right arm to heal the gash in his left. “Guess this is it…”
He could still hear the fighting outside the corridor. Leliana and Wynne were losing but were managing to take some out with them. Taiyama glanced out the window at the cool autumn day outside. Outside, people bought groceries, chatted about inane and silly things as well as the profound…all ignorant to the fact that their one and only hope might die here and now. He briefly considered opening the window and fleeing but…nope, judging by the footsteps, too late. They were coming. Only two warriors were left with Cauthrien out of all the ones she had brought. Even if victory came, it would be costly…and Taiyama would make sure that it was even more so.
“It’s over, Warden…” Cauthrien stated, standing in the doorway with her lackeys at each side. “For all your taunts and foolish pride, you’ve lost. It seems you can be defeated by the likes of us.” She pointed her greatsword at him. “Last chance: surrender peacefully or we drag you out. You’re trapped here.”
Taiyama, his back turned to his foes, continued to look outside the window at all of the people. He saw mostly humans, a few elves, even that single dwarf who sold “Fine Dwarven Crafts”. He placed his hand on the pane and thought of all of the people he’d be letting down if he failed now. Eamon…Anora...Lanaya...Harrowmont…all of his friends and his darling Leliana…and not just all of the big names but all of the people of Thedas who would be hurt if the Blight made it out of Ferelden… All of the potential sorrow and death…and not being able to make sure that the sacrifices made to get this far were worth something, had happened for a reason…
No!… NO!... I REFUSE TO FAIL! NOT HERE, NOT EVER!
Suddenly, power seemed swirl around and emanate from Taiyama. His three foes could feel a great weight on their chests, as if being hit by successive and continuous shock waves of great force. All but Cauthrien herself cowered and began slowly stepping backwards.
Wh…what is this…?! Cauthrien thought.
Taiyama turned around towards them, the whites of his eyes strangely glowing light blue, which visibly terrified his opponents. “I REFUSE! Just who the hell do you think I AM?!”
Taiyama then threw a fireball spell down at their feet which exploded at their feet with a ferocious conflagration even Taiyama did not expect. The explosion was so large that it filled the room, burning even Taiyama himself. Though the pain was intense, he had something his opponents did not: a very high resistance to magic. The damage done to him was not something that couldn’t be easily healed and far outstripped the damage done to those in the center of the blast. Cauthrien’s two lackeys were immediately killed by the blast.
Cauthrien herself only arose slowly, stabbing her greatsword into the ground and using it to lift herself up. She had a nasty burn on the side of her face that had been facing the center of the blast and much of her hair was charred. “You…your eyes… Where did you draw those reserves of power? Is this demonic possession? Demon,” she spat the title like it was a vile epithet, glaring at Taiyama with all the hatred she could muster, “I will not let you leave this place alive!”
“No…this isn’t demonic possession, this is the power of resolve!” Taiyama pointed his staff at Cauthrien. “Mark my words…this magic will carve a path to the glorious world of tomorrow! And that will be a world of peace, where no one has to live in fear of the Blights ever again!”
Cauthrien was silent for a moment. “Your goals… They are noble, if true. Foolish, but noble.”
“I ask you again… Surrender. Call off your men and let us go freely, and I shall spare you.”
“I…” Cauthrien was silent for a few seconds that seemed like eternity, as she contemplated her loyalties, her beliefs, her very purpose in life. “…I cannot…” Cauthrien somberly raised her greatsword and took a martial stance. “You are very powerful, Warden, but personal power cannot win a war. Loghain is our only hope of winning this war and if you stand against him…it is my duty to fight you.”
Taiyama sighed deeply and wearily—he had seen such things all too often. “Very well. Let us finish this, then.”
Ser Cauthrien charged forward at Taiyama, barely managing to dodge a lightning bolt and fist made of stone that he shot at her before closing the distance. She swung her greatsword in a great diagonal arc, which Taiyama nimbly dodged by leaping to the side. As he dodged, he use swung his staff with all of the force he could muster and hit Cauthrien in the legs. Normally such an attack would hardly trip up an experienced warrior such as Cauthrien, but fatigue and weakness played into Taiyama’s hands. Cauthrien stumbled forward, giving Taiyama just enough time to hit her with a huge blast of lightning.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”
Cauthrien was flung to the nearby wall, her head slamming into the glass window behind and shattering it. She slumped to the floor, her body propped up against the wall in a sitting position and broken glass all around her. Just to be safe, Taiyama shot a concentrated bolt of spirit energy straight through her heart. Her body barely flinched in response. Ser Cauthrien was dead.
Taiyama took a deep breath and the light blue light faded from the whites of his eyes. He walked over to Cauthrien, laid her down on the floor on her back, and crossed her hands over her heart. He knelt and, like he had done for Howe, began to pray:
“Death is always a sad affair…every life is precious. May you not be judged for the sins of your master, noble soldier, and may the Maker look kindly upon you as He must all those who have fought to protect their fellow man. May He grant you mercy for the evil you have unknowingly and naively helped perpetrate and judge you by your intentions. Amen.”
Taiyama stood, healed the remainder of his wounds, drank a lyrium potion, and prepared to fight his way out alone if he must. The archers were no doubt fresh thanks to the mages’ healing ability. The best chance would be a surprise attack with his strongest area of effect attacks…
He walked quietly towards the door to the hallway they had fought in earlier and peeked his head around to try and catch a glimpse of his enemies…only to be met by an arrow that almost hit him straight in the face. Repressing a frightened yelp, Taiyama drew his head back.
Mal’nar! They saw me!
*********************
“What the-?! He’s alive!!”
“How could he possibly be alive?! What happened to Ser Cauthrien?!”
“It doesn’t matter! Shoot the damned knife-ear!”
“But if the Warden was able to kill Cauthrien herself…”
“It doesn’t matter! WE HAVE TO SHOOT HIM!”
“Nnng…” Leliana groaned as she came out of unconsciousness.
Taiyama!... He’s in trouble… I…have to…
Struggling to ignore the wounds that cried out in protest at her movement, Leliana slowly got up on her knees and gave her eyes a moment to focus. What she saw when she could see again was a great deal of archers making their way towards her.
“Leliana?!” Taiyama yelped in surprise.
He quickly ran forward, picked her up, and brought her back into the corridor that had become his defensive position—but not before being hit twice by enemy arrows in the process. Once inside, he set her down and with a grunt pulled the two arrows out. He called upon the Spirit healing powers given to him by the Spirit of Valor to heal them both.
“Leliana…how did you…? I thought you had fallen!”
Leliana smiled. “Well, yes, but I heard you were in trouble. I wasn’t about to let a silly thing like unconsciousness stop me, was I?”
Taiyama smiled back and tears began to form in his eyes. “L-Leliana… You… I-I…”
“Watch out!”
Leliana quickly pushed Taiyama away just in time for him to not be hit by a lightning spell cast from a rather bold mage who had snuck ahead of the rest of the group. He was rewarded for his bravery with an arrow to the throat from Leliana’s bow.
“Hehe… I guess we’re even now.” Taiyama clenched his fist and smiled confidently. “All right! Let’s take these last lackeys out! Watch my back as I prepare a spell.”
Leliana nodded and took up position just inside the corridor. She shot a few who were brave enough to venture forth but none seemed to come out after that. It seemed that they were content to merely lay siege to Leliana and Taiyama, having the advantage of supplies and no doubt reinforcements on their way from elsewhere. Yet they would learn—or they would have if they survived—as the lightning storm Taiyama conjured up around them killed them off one-by-one, that it was never wise to give an enemy mage a single moment of calm. Only one managed to survive: the archer that had asked Taiyama the question about Flemeth and had afterward made sure to stay in the back, away from Taiyama.
“Please, please don’t kill me… I’m sorry! I was just following orders!” the soldier begged.
Taiyama simply smiled warmly and used some of the little mana he had left to heal the man’s wounds. “Go on,” Taiyama said, gesturing with his head to the door. “Get out of here and remember what you learned today.”
The man seemed shocked for a moment as he took in what just happened, then smiled widely. “Thank you! May the Maker bless you for your mercy, Sir! Thank you!” He promptly ran out the door, off to Maker know’s where.
Leliana put a hand on Taiyama’s shoulder. “I’m glad you let him go, Taiyama…”
Taiyama nodded. “Of course. Didn’t I say earlier that everyone deserved mercy? Now, let’s wake the rest of the gang up and see where Her Highness disappeared to. Hopefully she made a break for Eamon’s.”
OOC: AAAAAAAAAAAAAH! OY! Ten thousand yeeeeears will give you SUCH A CRICK IN THE NECK!
Back and not dead, ladies and gentlemen. Not that, y'know, anyone CARES. I've probably lost all but the most loyal fans after such a long hiatus, but whatever. Them's the breaks sometimes, y'know? I'll just have to be more active to attract more readers. The big thing I had gotten hung up on this whole time was the fight with Howe. It kind of shows my occasional disjointed effort over a month before I really sat down and typed this stuff out. It's kind of bad until you get to when Zevran counterattacks--which is about the time I reread Taiyama's death scene in "I'll Carry On!" and reminded myself that I CAN be a good writer. The quality from that point on is much higher. This is basically, though, the way my fight in the game played out with artistic license sprinkled in here and there.
Now, on to particulars. The glowing of the whites of Taiyama's eyes with a light blue color is a reference to the first Grey Warden trailer where the Grey Warden's eyes glowed that light blue color. I decided to incorporate that with Taiyama, but with some differences: A. It has nothing to do with the taint (or does it?) but comes up whenever Taiyama is channeling a huge amount of magical energy. It tends to happen when Taiyama makes his huge comebacks in a fight. B. Only the whites of the eyes glow, you can still see the pupils.
As for Leliana getting up in the middle of the fight after being knocked out, that's true as well. I'm serious, I DID see her go down in the fight and I didn't have any items or anything on her that would have brought her back. But after I, controlling Taiiyama, got chased into that room mentioned in the story and fought off Cauthrien, I came back to find that, low and behold, Leliana was back up--with no injuries, mind you--and firing arrows at the enemies. It's probably just one of the most awesome cases of Good Bad Bugs ever, but I like to think that it's the Power of Love.
Anyway, enough of my ramblings. Enjoy and hopefully in-between school work I'll have the next part up later this week!
Modifié par Taiyama, 01 septembre 2010 - 11:49 .
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I really don't think I could have done the same thing with any of the melee classes. They just don't have the ability to inflict massive damage on numerous enemies that mages do. 
