King & Lionheart

The Massacre

Tabris's boots were ruined, that was out of the question. She never knew blood to have a smell, but this was tainted, sticky, and overall an unpleasant experience to be within even a general vicinity of. Whether it was from a former person, or an abomination turned to sludge with August's frankly frightening new abilities, she wasn't sure.

She only knew it was slippery as shit when turned into ice.

Letting out a yelp, Alistair caught her arm before she fell face first into the next step on the stairwell.

"For someone who does lots of cool fancy tricks on her feet, you don't seem to know what icey liquid does."

"I've skated before, shut up," she grumbled, brushing herself off. She hiked her mask further up her face, bringing warmth in the cool room. The stone walls offered little in terms of insolation.

Certainly explained the robes.

"Oh, that makes me miss the winters in Redcliffe," Alistair smiled, wistful. "I saved Auggie from drowning in a frozen lake once. How old were we? 10?"

August only replied with a shrug.

"He's not looking too good, is he?" Tabris asked in a whisper, staring up at Alistair with a concerned gaze. "Like, worse than usual."

"I know," Alistair mumbled back, chewing the inside of his cheek. "I'm hoping it'll be better once we fix this mess."

He flashed her a pointed look. "Because we are fixing this. Understand?"

She furrowed her brows. "Was that in question?"

Swallowing, he took a deep breath. "People tend to give up on mages, like Greghoir back there. For his sake, can we... do everything we can to not? Give up on them, that is?"

"Of course."

"Okay, good, just... know, I'll hold you to that."

The endless hallway opened up into a lager room, with boxes, shelves, and filing cabinets galore. A balding man with a blank expression stood towards the back, hands folded neatly in front of him. The Chantry's symbol of the sun was branded into his forehead.

"Please, refrain from going into the stockroom," the man said, voice monotone. Tabris raised her brows.

This is only the outside of the room?

"It is a mess, and I have not been able to get it into a state fit to be seen," the man continued.

"Owain?" August asked, tilting his head. "What're you still doing here?"

"Yes, it is I, Owain. You remember," Owain nodded. "I was trying to tidy up, but there was little I could do."

"Don't you wanna get out of here?"

"I tried to leave, when things got quiet. That was when I encountered the barrier. Finding no other way out, I returned to work."

"Owain, you should've said something," said Wynne. "I would've opened the door for you."

"The stockroom is familiar," Owain assured her. "I prefer to be here."

"Have you encountered any abominations?" August asked.

"No. I suppose I should consider myself lucky," Owain gave a single nod. "I would prefer not to die. I would prefer it if the tower were to return to the way it was. Perhaps Niall will succeed and save us all."

August furrowed his brows. "What exactly is Niall trying to do?"

"I do not know. But he came here with several others and took the Litany of Adralla."