David Gaider - The Calling

He remembered it only too well. Darkspawn.

Without speaking, they broke into a full run. Twice Kell urgently gestured to the rest of them to switch directions into a side passage, the last time bringing them through a hole in the wall into a natural cavern. Maric felt uneasy about leaving the Deep Roads. The floor was uneven and slick, and the cavern led downward sharply. Would they even be able to find their way back?

There was little time to think about that, however. They sped through the dark caverns, and when they eventually reached a fork in the path, Genevieve called for a halt. As they waited, panting for breath, she waved for the torches to be doused. That was a bad sign, Maric thought to himself. Duncan and Utha quickly smothered the flames, which had already burned very low.

Fiona raised her staff, and with a whisper it began to glow once again. She kept the light dim, however, so it barely shone farther than their immediate area. Moving in these caverns would be difficult this way, with all the loose stones and debris lying about. That seemed less important than the rapidly approaching drone of the humming.

It made Maric’s skin crawl. Next to him, he could see Duncan nervously fingering the hilt of one of his daggers. The lad’s dark skin glistened with sweat, and his eyes flickered back and forth in agitation as if watching for something to jump out of the shadows.

Why they had stopped running, he didn’t know. The entire group seemed frozen in place, holding their breath as they waited. The tension was almost unbearable. “What are we waiting for?” he finally demanded.

Nicolas jumped, startled, and frowned at him angrily.

Genevieve held up a hand to Maric, but didn’t look back at him. Her intense gaze was elsewhere, as was Kell’s and several of the others. They were all staring off into the darkness at something he couldn’t detect. “We are waiting to see if those ahead will pass,” she explained, her voice low.

“We are caught between two groups,” Kell whispered.

Julien fingered the hilt of his greatsword nervously. Maric could see the sweat running down his brow. “Maker, my enemies are abundant,” the man intoned, “but my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion.”

“There may be a way … ,” Genevieve began uncertainly, but then paused. She glanced at the hunter and he nodded. Gesturing for his hound to follow, Kell immediately spun and began sprinting back the way they had come. She ran after him. “Quickly,” she ordered.

They raced back through the caverns. Maric wanted to ask why they were heading back, but they were going too fast. He could only assume that what ever they had sensed ahead was worse than what was behind them.

“Maric, when the battle begins, stay back with the mage!” Genevieve shouted back to him as she ran. “Guard her! Duncan, stay with him!”

He barely had a moment to let the command sink in when the fight began. With a great war cry, the white-haired woman surged ahead, sword lifted high. Nicolas and Julien flanked her, the former with spiked mace and shield and the latter with two-handed blade. The three of them fell upon a line of darkspawn who appeared in the staff’s white light almost as if from nowhere.

The tall hurlocks hissed in outrage, bringing to bear their own jagged-looking and primitive weapons as they suddenly recognized their ancient foe. They were too late, however, and the heavy warriors carved a path of carnage through their ranks. The humming sound grew loud and angry all around them. Darkspawn ichor fountained from gaping wounds as steel sliced easily through corrupted flesh.

Maric backed up, his runed longsword held warily before him. Duncan stayed close by, crouched low to the ground with both his daggers out. It was a feral pose, Maric thought, one that spoke of a quick and dirty fighting style.

Fiona stepped forward beside him, the glow of her staff intensifying until it was brilliant enough to light up the entire passage. “No point in hiding it now,” she growled. She put out a hand against Maric’s chest. “Stand back.”

Holding up the staff, she spoke a few soft words under her breath. Her eyes closed and the aura of magic intensified around her. He stepped back as ordered, and as he did so a ring of power surged forth from the mage. The air wavered slightly, filling with an unnatural sheen, and as the ring rushed down the passage and passed through the darkspawn ranks they appeared to slow slightly. Their weapons moved as if the air itself had become thick and sluggish. The Grey Wardens, however, were not impaired.

Genevieve and the other warriors pressed forward, grunting with effort as they hacked with their heavy weapons. All three of them were veterans. Their blows were careful yet powerful, and they wasted no more time on a single opponent than was absolutely necessary, kicking back a mortally wounded darkspawn with a boot if need be to make room. Neither Genevieve nor Julien seemed hindered by the lack of room for their large blades. They switched effortlessly between parries and jabs, even striking with the hilt when need be. Nicolas used his shield not only to protect himself, but to block attacks aimed at the other two whenever he could. His mace struck rapidly, its blunt head crunching jaws and breaking hands so that his opponents dropped their weapons.

Each of the three stayed aware of the other two, keeping their distance even and ensuring that none of the darkspawn passed their line. Their attacks were effective. The darkspawn reeled back, the alien humming taking on an angry and growling tone now. The warriors pressed forward, black ichor staining their armor and their faces, and for a moment it looked as if the trio might actually hold the narrow cavern on their own.

It was not to last.

Nicolas shouted in rage as a large hurlock crashed forcefully into his shield, sending him skittering back several feet on the uneven stone. He tripped and fell backwards, the creature frantically leaping on top of him and biting at his face with its great fangs. Julien spun around, eyes wide with alarm, and hacked the creature almost in half with one swing of his enormous sword. But the damage was already done.

Several short genlocks surged past the prone warrior, snarling with delight as they raced toward Maric and the others in the back. They were slowed by Fiona’s spell, but not enough. Genevieve moved to try to quickly close the gap left by Nicolas’s fall, but she couldn’t. Julien was too busy trying to keep the darkspawn from overwhelming him and Nicolas, swinging his blade in wide arcs around him, and she simply couldn’t hold the line on her own. More darkspawn rushed past them. Their line was broken.

The first genlocks made to throw their spears, but several arrows thunked loudly into their heads before they could attack. They went down, squealing in pain and clawing madly at their faces. Kell stepped forward, frowning as he nocked more arrows and fired them as quickly as he could into the oncoming force.

Utha dropped her pack and prepared to run to meet the darkspawn herself. Maric wondered what the dwarf planned on fighting with, since all she wore were her brown robes and leather gauntlets. He’d never seen her carry a weapon. Did she fight with fists? Is that what the Silent Sisters did?

“Utha, wait!” Fiona called out.

The dwarf quickly jumped to one side as the elven mage stepped forward, holding her hands out in front of her. With a look of concentration and a whisper of magic, a corona of flame surrounded her hands and then rushed out in a jet to burn the approaching darkspawn.

For a moment the cavern was lit up bright as day. The front darkspawn roared and writhed in agony as the fire engulfed them. The magical flames spread along the ground, sending up a cloud of black smoke that threatened to choke the passage. The darkspawn behind those in front were similarly burned, and hissed in rage, but continued to run forward despite their injuries. They leaped over their burning comrades, eager to reach Fiona before she could cast another spell at them.