There and Back Again Ch. 136

It took most of an entire day to get the assembled forces down the hill and to a temporary camp at the bottom. There were no ruins we could see in the area surrounding us, and we avoided the spots with a higher concentration of dragon bones. The map showed a chasm to the north, and I knew that the Mother's Nest likely opened out into it. There were no darkspawn that we could sense, but we included Wardens in the watch rotation along with the sentries designated from among the army -- just in case. And we kept multiple torches burning all night, on the off chance of a dragon attack.

The night was uneventful; when the inevitable high dragon battle did happen, it was in the middle of the day as we all scouted, looking for ruins; groups of soldiers led by Wardens were scattered among the rocks, and two men had been snatched before anyone knew what was happening. When the cry went up -- along with the fetid stench of dragon breath and the massive wind stirred by flapping wings -- soldiers and Wardens scrambled together to mount a coordinated defense against the creature.

And it was magnificent, a distracted part of my mind noticed as I ran for cover -- I knew my daggers wouldn't be sufficient to aid me in this fight, so I was better off getting out of the way and letting the heavier armoured fighters do their thing. It was larger than the risen Andraste -- older, I assumed -- and its scales were a gorgeous multicoloured patina, greens and blues mixed with red and purple. It had an enormous crest on its head instead of horns, and massive leathery wings that sent the dust flying.

But it was old; I'd seen two high dragons before, and this one moved much more slowly than either of the others. It more hopped and glided than flew, and I suspected it would take a lot of time and an enormous effort for the beast to get its massive bulk off the ground -- time the fighters weren't giving it, of course. It shot lightning instead of flames, to my astonishment, and its first attack killed a group of three soldiers, the electricity cooking them in their armour before anyone could stop it.

But quickly, Aedan and Alistair -- as the two most experienced with fighting dragons -- were shouting orders, the soldiers were spreading out to keep the lightning from chaining between them, and the dragon was slowly, systematically cut, bled, and disabled until it fell. In some ways it was easier than the dragon fights I'd witnessed in the past -- more fighters, more swords -- but it was also riskier, with less experienced dragon fighters getting in each other's way. But eventually the dragon fell.

Exhausted, we gave up on scouting for the day and the army returned to our previous camp to rest, heal the wounded, and have pyres for the five men lost. Without Anders -- our best healer, left behind because of Faren's illness -- Solona, Alim, and Velanna provided what healing they could, and we had to rely on potions for the rest. I tried, mostly successfully, not to feel responsible for the injuries and deaths...it didn't stop a few irritating guilty tears, which I managed to hide from everyone but Alistair. It helped that while a few soldiers would have to ride carts back to Amaranthine, most would recover.

Scouting the next day was fruitful, finding several promising ruins to the north; we moved camp to a more central, semi-permanent location, and began the thankless task of finding the Mother's Nest. It was something the game had always skipped over; there was only one ruin, one door that was interactable. In real life, there were dozens of doors, many of which were partially blocked, sealed, or broken and had to be painstakingly opened before we could rule them out.

There were several skirmishes with darkspawn inside the ruins; I wondered if many of the ruins connected through tunnels and secret entrances, but without days or months to spend, determining that was impractical. Instead, when a doorway was opened, a group of soldiers led by two Wardens would enter, take a brief look around, and then come back to report. Most of the entrances led to areas that were clearly too small or too damaged to house an army or a broodmother, but finally we'd managed to narrow the options down to three: three entrances that lead deep into the ruins, occupied by at least some darkspawn, heading toward the chasm.

The next day, after a rough night filled with darkspawn nightmares for all of the Wardens, we entered the first ruin. We'd left a large group of soldiers to defend the camp, and another to patrol the other two entrances; Seranni, whose fighting skills were still developing, stayed at camp to warn against any darkspawn attacks. The rest of the Wardens, plus Velanna, Nate, Avanna, and I led the way inside.

It was bleak work; the ruins were dark and grim, filled with dust, mummified darkspawn corpses, and living darkspawn. Each bit of progress required us to leave soldiers behind to guard the rear, and between the fighting and the organisation, it took hours to work our way through. We did find a Broodmother, the experience of which horrified our newest Wardens and the one recruit; I'd forgotten than Alim, Rolan, and Velanna had never seen one of the abominations, and all three were left shaken.

Rolan, Alistair, and I worked surprisingly well together dispatching emissaries, though a poorly placed smite by Rolan staggered both Solona and Alim without completely incapacitating them. Velanna helped them recover with rejuvenating spells after giving the former templar an incredibly dirty look. I've been avoiding him, not wanting to deal with it, but clearly I need to keep a closer eye on that Chantry zealot if Velanna's already aware of his bias.

The three mages learned to coordinate their spells and managed to take down the two ogres we ran across. While the soldiers and the rest of the Wardens kept the regular darkspawn at bay, Aedan, Zevran, and Wulf slipped into the shadows, making their way through the tentacles and small horde of darkspawn to destroy the Broodmother. It was a long, difficult fight, but we came away with only minor injuries: a few gashes, some bruises, and the odd acid burn from the Broodmother's caustic spit -- I noticed, rather smugly, that none of the mages offered to heal Rolan's acid burn.

We returned to camp after dark, victorious -- sort of -- but exhausted, and knowing we'd have to start again with a different entrance the next morning. Fortunately, supper was waiting for us, as was hot water for washing; afterwards we collapsed into our tents gratefully, and slept deeply.