Chapter 18: Templar Twister

"Sierra, I can see that you're a very useful person to have around, with your impressive knowledge of what is about to happen – however it is that you come by it." Wynne shot me a look that was part suspicious disbelief and part frustration. "However, I suspect that you'd be less than helpful if you ended up dead before we finished this. As the person who's going to have to save you if you get yourself injured, can I respectfully request that you stay out of the fighting when possible?"

I appreciated that she didn't use my less than epic fighting skills as the excuse, though the condescension was still galling. On impulse I stuck my tongue out at her in lieu of a response, and she actually choked as a laugh tried to escape while she still wore that sour expression. Feeling terribly immature, and quite self-satisfied at the same time, I turned away and walked to the next door I knew we had to open if we wanted to move on.

Eventually everyone else joined me, and Alistair pushed open the door. We fought our way through the rest of the fourth floor, none of us enjoying the dragonlings that seemed to have taken over. Sten largely took to stomping on them, which was both gross and funny, and wouldn't have worked for anyone shorter than the giant. I stayed back as requested, though we got jumped from behind somehow a couple of times so it didn't help as much as Wynne had hoped.

"Andraste's flaming sword, who keeps dragonlings in a sodding place of residence?" I couldn't agree with Alistair's sentiment more, even if the curses still made me giggle.

We finally found Cullen, and it was even worse than the game had lead me to believe. The poor kid's mind was broken, and I truly wondered if anyone would ever be able to put him back together. Wynne and Aedan both tried to reassure him as much as possible, but none of us were willing to slaughter all the mages out of hand - it would have ruined any chance at keeping Arl Eamon's family intact, in addition to just being very, very wrong - and we had to leave him, sobbing and praying.

Aedan had convinced Wynne to take and use the Litany, so after a brief reminder, and a warning to everyone to protect the mages who'd not yet been forcibly turned, especially Irving, we finally headed up the stairs into the Harrowing chamber.

As in the game, Uldred was surrounded by Abomination lackeys. A couple dozen bound, exhausted, injured mages were on the floor around the room, and Uldred's abominations were in the process of performing some sort of ritual which turned a poor young mage, screaming defiance, into yet another abomination.

Aedan again tried to talk Uldred down; I admired his diligence, but come on, the guy's an abomination! Finally realising that a fight was inevitable, Aedan slipped around to his side as Alistair bashed him in the face with his shield. It left Uldred with a bloody nose, and a rather nasal pitch to his voice. Note to self: hug Alistair later. Then he turned into the form of a pride demon.

As requested, I stayed back. Not that it was difficult to do so – I was terrified, and felt sick. The abominations were hideous, misshapen things that were much worse than I'd imagined in game. The smell of the corruption in the rest of the tower had inured me somewhat, but it was stronger in the Harrowing Chamber. Instead of getting involved, I watched for signs that Uldred was about to turn another mage and reminded Wynne to use the Litany. It's a good thing Wynne has the book – I'd probably freeze up and forget how to read. Sten, Prince, and Leliana took on the three other abominations.

The strategy seemed to be working until somehow the demon that had been Uldred managed to kick Aedan back and push Alistair over, then drain Wynne's mana - the elderly woman slumped, and I worried she'd actually fall over. Quickly, before anyone could recover, he caught both Alistair and Aedan with spells. Aedan actually froze into a man-shaped popsicle, and Alistair appeared to be paralysed. Uldred started chanting again, and I was suddenly terrified that he'd manage to shatter Aedan like we'd done to some of the demons earlier.

I took a few steps forward, planning to charge him with my dagger, but my fear was almost overwhelming. I heard Wynne reading from the Litany again, and Sten roaring at an abomination as he cut it down. I screamed in fear, and suddenly the hair on my arms rose like it had when I'd seen darkspawn Emissaries in past. A blast sounded, I could feel a rumble across the ground, and several of the bound mages appeared to faint. At the same time, both Uldred and the one remaining lackey started leaking blood out of every orifice. Uldred screamed, the word 'no' echoing across the harrowing chamber, as both he and the other abomination slowly crumpled to the ground.

Suddenly there was near silence. I could hear Alistair panting, still paralysed, as well as Wynne and Sten. Leliana lowered her bow, and there was the tinkling sound of falling glass as the ice broke away from Aedan and shattered on the floor. We all looked around at each other, trying to determine what had happened.

A few of the bound mages groaned, stirring, and Wynne rushed over to one, a grey-haired man I recognised as Irving. The rest of us spent a few minutes untying mages, rubbing bound hands to get the circulation going, offering sips of water and what reassurances we could. They all claimed to have been drained of mana, like Wynne, though they weren't quite sure how, but it slowly started recovering as they were able to rest and relax.

Finally Wynne approached with Irving in tow, introducing him to our little group. When she got to me, he stepped forward and shook my hand before she could finish.

"Thank you, templar, for your assistance. I don't know that many could have managed both Uldred and the other abomination like that. I shall tell Greagoir that he has trained his people well."

As a group, we all stared at him in open-mouthed shock. I was the first to react, stepping to the side so Irving and I both faced Alistair.

"He's the templar, First Enchanter, not me. You must have been confused."

Alistair objected. "Almost templar. But I didn't actually use any templar abilities in that fight."

"No, young lady, I was not confused. I may be old, but I am not yet senile. I've been exposed to templar abilities before, though not as powerful as your own. There's no mistaking the source when someone smites you, once you've become used to it. I don't know which specific ability you used, but you drained the mana from every mage in here, including Uldred and the abomination."

"But I'm not a templar." I stopped myself from babbling the rest of my train of thought ... I've never trained as one, or taken Lyrium, or spent time in the Chantry. I can't even fight. And I've definitely never met Greagoir! I was suddenly very worried. If Irving told the templars that I used one of their abilities, I doubted they'd be lenient. They would want to know where I learned it, how I got my hands on Lyrium ... they'd imprison me, or worse. And then when I disappeared into thin air, they'd label me an apostate, assuming Irving was wrong. I pulled Aedan and Alistair aside and explained my fears.

"He must be wrong. I'm not a templar - how could I be? I'm not even from Thedas." I suddenly had a thought. "The power surge! Maybe that's what happened." Seeing the confused looks on their faces, I tried to explain. "At home, my body is being kept in a ... uh ... a building that healers use to take care of sick people. And like I've said, we don't have magic so we rely on machines. In the building are machines that can monitor someone's illness. A little while back, when we fought that revenant, there was a ... sort of like a bolt of lightning hit. It broke a bunch of the machines. I wondered if I might have somehow conducted the power through whatever connection I have to Thedas and that's what killed the revenant. Maybe it happened again? Could that be what Irving felt?"

No one could confirm or deny that theory, and so, shrugging, we turned back to the problem of a group of mages thinking I was a templar. We pulled Wynne into the discussion, glossing over who I really was but promising to explain later; she immediately saw the problem, with an added twist:

"Even if we can convince all of these mages not to mention you, Greagoir knows everyone in the tower and that you weren't with the group when they entered. In addition to explaining templar abilities, we need to explain your existence." My face must have gone pale, because Aedan put a protective arm around my waist. "I don't suppose you could just choose to, ah, pop out as you call it? If we could manage that privately before we get downstairs, they might just forget about you."

I shook my head. "I can't control it. Though I've been wondering if it triggers shortly after being really upset about something." Aedan raised his eyebrows, but I shook my head and refused to meet his gaze. "So if one of you knows how to scare me half to death or find a convincing way to hurt my feelings really badly, then we wait around for a day or so..."

"What about a disguise? Put you in armour with a helmet, hope no one asks questions? When we get to the main entryway, you leave right away before everything gets explained? We can all play dumb, claim we thought you were a templar from here, and when no one can find you ... The mages don't know anything, and I'm sure we can convince Irving to delay telling Greagoir about you."

"Interesting idea, Wynne." Aedan looked thoughtful. "Because the only alternative I can come up with is to tell the truth. Tell Irving, see what he thinks. Tell Greagoir. And then, if necessary, be prepared to fight our way out if they try to capture you."

"No, Aedan!" The thought of them fighting the templars was freaking me out. "Worst case scenario, let them take me. We all know eventually I'll disappear, and I can find you when that happens. It seems I can find you even when we don't want me to, so ... I guess I can live with them thinking I'm an apostate."

"Let's try the disguise first," Wynne decided. "Greagoir is an honourable man, but some of his templars are ... overzealous. I don't want you left in their hands if it can be avoided. Let me go talk to Irving. I'll promise to explain everything later. I think he'll go along. You go find some armour."

"Wait. Wynne? One more question. What was the name of the mage who helped Jowan destroy his phylactery? Do you know?"

She looked at me strangely. "Solona."

"Where is she now? What did they do with her after Jowan escaped?"

"She's still here, child. Under 'supervision'. Why?"

"Do you ... think Irving would let her be one of the mages who comes with us to Redcliffe?"

"Why would mages be coming with us to Redcliffe?"

"Humour me. Assuming that some are, can we arrange for her to be one of them?"

She gave me another piercing look. "I will ask."

Aedan and Sten remained to help take care of the mages and back up Wynne, if required. Prince, as usual, happily followed Aedan around. Alistair, Leliana and I went scouring the tower for armour. I wasn't sad to see my disgusting clothes go, especially once we found the locker of a female templar who was roughly my size. There was a clean set of leather armour, similar to what I'd been practicing with in Redcliffe, with a full helm. I changed, with Leliana's help, and Alistair declared me to be 'very templar-y'. We strapped a sword and shield to my back, to complete the picture, although I could barely lift them so I hoped no one asked for a demonstration of my abilities.

We met back up with our group, and we all had to assist the exhausted and terrified mages down the stairs to the main level. Once we reached the large doors Greagoir had barricaded, Irving called out and convinced him to let us through. He was a good actor, that old man; he waited, pretending to be breathless and needing a moment to gather himself, while I divested myself of the mage I'd been supporting and slipped out the front entrance with no one the wiser.