The mages did not follow their battle-weary, blootstained allies out of the Circle Tower, for they were entirely spent from the fighting, and lacked the morale to push any further now that their leader had given in to temptation. It was a gruesome scene inside, the already horrifying carnage of a magic-filled battle amplified yet more by the slain abomination as the centerpiece of it all. It was going to take a long time to move on from the day's events.
Of course, that assumed that they survived the day at all. As Sophia saw it, their fates rested now in the hands of the Templars, at least the small army of them that waited in the Gallows courtyard. Sophia had faith in the abilities her friends possessed, but despite their accomplishments, they were only mortal, and had never been forced to face so many well trained enemies at once.
And many there were. As Sophia led the group down the steps into the courtyard, her blade sheathed, they parted for her, perhaps respectfully, a sea of steel and crimson and faceless masks watching the few that stood up for the mages. They clearly had orders not to strike just yet, otherwise they would have done so by now. It was as good a sign as any, Sophia thought.
There were many things Sparrow did not understand, and Meredith was one of them. An enigma in Kirkwall's midst’s, standing for all that she hated, and striking those she'd come to care for—that was all that mattered now. When Sophia stepped forward to speak, her shoulders hunched like great gates slamming closed and her fingers gripped her mace all the tighter. This would not end peacefully, that much she understood.
It would end like Orsino had, except in a much less mournful manner. If they tore her to pieces, she'd feel nothing. At least, Orsino had stood for something she considered right. She recognized the telltale glow of red wafting from her blade. Remembered telling her companions to kill Varric's brother because he was too far gone by now, and figured Meredith was the same. It had gnawed whatever good parts might have existed in her, and left a raw, ugly thing in it's place.
"And here we are," Meredith called, breaking the silence of her army. "At long last." She stood with arms crossed among the center of the throng, her ornate armor and red hood separating her visually from her soldiers. The targets of her gaze were escorted directly before her, where all watched, waiting for the seemingly inevitable moment when the bloodshed would resume.
"It does feel as though we've been building to this for some time," Sophia admitted, tiredly. "You wouldn't have had it so, of course, considering all of the others you sent to kill me in your place."
"And you proved a worthy opponent, but do not think this personal. I am here to see order restored, as always. What happens to you and your friends now is your own doing." A few of the Templars without helmets obstructing their faces caught Sophia's eyes. The Knight-Lieutenants and those of higher rank. Some seemed uncomfortable due to Meredith's words. "In defending the Circle," Meredith continued, "you've chosen to share their fate."
One of the Knight-Captains stepped forward to Meredith's side. Sophia recognized him as Cullen. "Knight-Commander," he said, carefully, "I thought we intended to arrest them. The battle is over. The mages cannot continue the fight."
"You will do as I command, Cullen." Meredith's tone was highly agitated. Cullen was clearly uneasy about his actions, but did not back down.
"No. I defended you when whispers began to accuse you of madness. But this is too far."
A rage, terrifying to behold, sprang up in Meredith's eyes. "I will not allow insubordination!" She pulled her greatsword from her back, and it suddenly pulsed with a bright red energy, a gleaming red shard set above the hilt now glowing powerfully. "We must stay true to our path!"
She leveled the sword directly at Cullen's throat, and the Knight-Captain had no choice but to back away slowly. Many other Templars around him did the same. Meredith turned her head slightly to peer at the various members of the group opposing her. "You recognize it, do you not? Those of you that helped to retrieve it. Pure lyrium, taken from the Deep Roads. The dwarf charged a great deal for his prize."
Ithilian's scarred lip was twisted into a cruel snarl as he watched the sword pulse with energy. He did indeed remember it, and the trouble it brought to everyone who came into contact with it. For years it had been corrupting Meredith's mind, taking what faults she already had and driving them to their extremes. "Whatever power it gained you, that shard has taken much more. Even if you cannot see it... I have a feeling your followers can."
The Knight-Commander widened her stance, readying for a fight, eyes filled with hate. "All of you, I want them dead!"
"Enough!" Cullen cried. "This is not what the Order stands for. Knight-Commander, step down. I relieve you of your command!" The look on Meredith's face turned from one of pure rage to utter shock, almost sadness.
"My own Knight-Captain falls prey to the influence of blood magic." As if saying the very words blood magic stirred something in her, her eyes narrowed again, her gaze now darting around rapidly to random soldiers in her army. "You all have! You're all weak, allowing the mages to control your minds, to turn you against me!" She brandished her sword about, pointing it at some of them, and Templars all around her backed away to make some distance, a few of them cautiously reaching for their weapons.
Meredith turned her blade back towards Sophia. "But I don't need any of you! I will protect this city myself."
The opportunity had come, Sophia could see. Meredith's Templars wavered on a knife's edge, and she needed to give them that last push, for any semblance of justice to win out today. "Templars! Your Knight-Captain has relieved Meredith of command. What is your order, Cullen?"
"Restrain the Knight-Commander," he said, with barely any hesitation. And like the beginning of a wave crashing, when enough of the Templars jumped to heed Cullen's command, the rest followed suit. When the first of them approached Meredith, however, she plunged her blade straight into the stone of the Gallows courtyard, easily cleaving through it, and a bright red sphere of energy formed around her, knocking away and burning the hands of those too close.
Meredith lowered her head and spoke quietly, with deadly intent. "Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter!" She pulled her blade back from the ground, the energy in the air appearing to be absorbed into her body, and charged.
On account, perhaps, of being somewhat near the front beside Lucien, Rilien was the first person she targeted, cleaving downwards between the two of them with a strike so powerful it left a rend in the stone when they managed to duck out of the way. Rilien went left, and Meredith followed. Knowing he had little chance of parrying an attack that strong, he left his knives in a relaxed grip in his hands and focused on outthinking her, predicting where she was likely to go and beginning to dodge just a little ahead of time.
It might have worked quite well, were the proximity of the red lyrium not making him sick again. Just as it had when he sneaked into her chambers to slice off her hair, the object was proving to be more a danger to him than the one who wielded it. He faltered, slowing, and the sword caught him a nasty gash in the right shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards, Meredith following like a hound scenting prey.
Admittedly, intervening by trying to body-slam Meredith was quite possibly the worst plan she ever had, but Estella didn’t really think about it. All she saw was that Rilien’s maneuvering faltered, and that she was close enough now to intervene, so she did, lowering her shoulder and trying to catch the Knight-Commander’s elbow or something.
It was just enough to shift her aim to the side, sparing Rilien the next hit, but Estella rebounded off Meredith like rubber off stone, the Templar’s solidity surprising her with just how absolute it seemed to be, as though Meredith were made of granite or planted into the ground like a tree. Wheeling her arms in an attempt to remain upright, she yelped when the red lyrium blade caught her in the left thigh, slicing deep into her flesh. Her leg buckled, and she tried to roll out of the way of the next blow, knowing it was likely impossible.
Fortunately, she was not alone, and Meredith’s blade clanged off another, Everburn interceding on her behalf. Lucien stepped forward, his shadow falling over her, and she scrambled up to her feet, trying to get further behind him. For Lucien, it was clearly a struggle; Meredith was somehow a good deal stronger even than him, and he could only hold their swords in place for a few seconds before his was forced to the ground, sending sparks into the air where it scraped against the stone beneath them.
Even momentarily, an opening presented itself and Aurora sought to take advantage. Her face remained even and betrayed no emotion, even as she swept around to the side. She swung her staff, conjuring a stonefist it the air and whipping it toward Meredith, and sending a bolt of lightning with the back swing. The force of the stonefist moved Meredith only a step, and didn't seem to cause any lasting damage, while the lightning bolt simply glanced off of her red lyrium sword. Meredith then turned her steely glare toward Aurora, and the look she gave her made her take a step backward. Aurora was no blood mage, but Meredith didn't care about the semantics at this point.
Meredith pushed hard off of the ground, hard enough that her foot left a divot in the cobblestones. Quicker than a human could possibly be, she stood in front of Aurora, her sword pulled back to cut her in half. Aurora barely had enough time to throw up a wall a stone between her and Meredith, obscuring the line of sight enough to push herself back out of the killzone. Still, Meredith cut through the stone like paper, and Aurora could feel her mana being eaten away as the sword carved a thin crimson line down her collar. The ferocity pushed Aurora back and caused her to trip onto her back.
It was only her self-preservation instincts that caused her to fling another stonefist toward her face before desperately trying to roll away.
Fortunately, Estella had intervened in time when Sparrow could not. A rattling roar ripped from her throat as she hurtled forward, just in time for Meredith to be pushed aside. A neat spray of blood spattered from Estella's thigh, and Lucien stepped forward to take her place. Things were happening quickly. She'd misjudged Meredith's strength, her erratic speed. Her hair was damp with sweat, already plastered to her head. Sweat dripped from her chin, dripped on the ground. She ground her teeth together and floundered forward, gripping onto the anger as if it were her mace. A wound from the inside of her mouth wept like copper: bitten to keep the fear at bay.
As soon as Meredith rounded on Aurora, another ferocious howl came from her mouth. No clever little words to draw her attention away, only electricity pulsing through the shaft of her mace, crackling from the flanged stars. A war cry that promised death and demise and endings. What little magic she had boiled in her, like small, raging hisses begging to be released. Her slow jog quickened and broke into a shambling sprint. She barely managed to lug the mace behind her. It bounced off the cobblestones and scratched the surface as Aurora tripped backwards, and Meredith hissed in front of her, plunging the luminescent blade through the rocky wall.
Kirkwall was in flames. And its people were faring little better. It seemed as if their worlds had always been shaken by unseen, faceless forces, but now there was a face. Hers. She skidded to an abrupt stop, dug her heels in, and swung the mace up and over her shoulder, directing it towards Meredith's exposed head. She turned, impossibly quick. Whipped around so quickly, she'd expected to crush bone instead of clash against dazzling steel. Sparrow bunched her shoulders, and snarled into Meredith's blade. She would win. And this would all end. She didn't feel the blade slicing into the shaft of her mace, didn't feel the tip of her blade biting through her dragonskin leathers, prickling into her chest.
Sophia interceded before Meredith could do as much damage to Sparrow as she'd planned. Her blade clanged against the Knight-Commander's glowing red weapon, and was actually more effective than she'd expected. The attack was driven aside, and a hard shove of her shoulder drove the woman back a few steps. Sensing an opportunity, Sophia pushed her advantage.
Meredith growled in frustration, and the idol in her blade glowed more brightly for a second, the light soon spreading to her eyes. The clear blue of her irises was soon overwhelmed by a piercing red, glowing from within, as though flames sprang from her very eyes. Sophia arrived before her and traded a few strikes, to find that she was no longer having the effect she briefly witnessed.
The Knight-Commander caught a downward strike of Sophia's and was quick to lash out with a kick to her gut, sending Sophia onto her back. She scrambled back in an attempt to get away from Meredith's blade, but it was Cullen in the end who spared her the next blow, charging in to face his former leader. She parried a few of his strikes before returning one of her own, a powerful smash that rattled his shield and sent him stumbling away. He was clearly feeling shooting pains up his entire arm.
The effort was appearing to take a toll on Meredith, as she heaved for breath. Sophia wondered if using the idol to enhance her abilities was not costing her physically in the long run of the battle. "Maker," Meredith hissed, even her voice altered to be more powerful in volume by the idol, "your servant begs you for the strength to defeat this evil!" Sophia, having risen back to her feet, made another charge for Meredith.
The woman plunged her sword again into the Courtyard's stone, and a blast of red lightning exploded from within her. The force of it stopped Sophia cold, while the arc of lightning that struck her sent intense pain through her body, leaving her limbs shaking and unresponsive. Similar arcs lashed out to anyone else close enough, and one caught an arrow straight out of the air from Ithilian's bow.
The elf had been stalking around the edges of the fight, wary of the Templars watching as much as Meredith herself. He had waited for a shot to present itself, but the fight was too chaotic, Meredith too quick, and his allies too many and too disorganized. Now that he had taken a shot, it was wasted. He watched as blasts of the red lightning bounced in a direct line across the entire distance of the courtyard, knocking aside any Templars that stood in the way. It skipped up the side of a wall and crackled into the body of a great statue in bronze, forged in the image of an ancient Tevinter soldier. The statue was constructed of several pieces, probably twenty feet tall, and wielding a massive bronze polearm in both hands.
It look harmless enough when still, but the idol's lightning infected it with some kind of magical energy, causing the head to start spinning in place, and then the entire body after it. The eyes lighting up with the same malicious red light, the statue leapt down from its perch overlooking the smaller slave statues pinned covering their faces on the pillars. It landed with a terrible crash, shaking the ground, and a more terrible attack followed, when the bronze polearm cleaved the heads of two Templars from their bodies.
The lightning spread to several of the slave statues as well, and they at last showed their unsculpted faces, as they climbed down into the battle, and joined the soldier in attacking the Templars and anyone too close. These were ten feet or so in hand and devoid of any massive weapons, but still dangerously strong. Ithilian defensively rolled out of the way when one tried to stomp him with a massive bronze foot.
Sophia was barely able to move her arms again when Meredith launched forward for a strike. She managed to get her sword in the way, and the block likely saved her life, but the weight of Meredith's blow still smashed heavily into her side, tossing her aside like a small child rather than a grown woman. She clattered to the ground in a heap, losing her grip on her sword, where she could momentarily only writhe in pain.
Of course, that assumed that they survived the day at all. As Sophia saw it, their fates rested now in the hands of the Templars, at least the small army of them that waited in the Gallows courtyard. Sophia had faith in the abilities her friends possessed, but despite their accomplishments, they were only mortal, and had never been forced to face so many well trained enemies at once.
And many there were. As Sophia led the group down the steps into the courtyard, her blade sheathed, they parted for her, perhaps respectfully, a sea of steel and crimson and faceless masks watching the few that stood up for the mages. They clearly had orders not to strike just yet, otherwise they would have done so by now. It was as good a sign as any, Sophia thought.
There were many things Sparrow did not understand, and Meredith was one of them. An enigma in Kirkwall's midst’s, standing for all that she hated, and striking those she'd come to care for—that was all that mattered now. When Sophia stepped forward to speak, her shoulders hunched like great gates slamming closed and her fingers gripped her mace all the tighter. This would not end peacefully, that much she understood.
It would end like Orsino had, except in a much less mournful manner. If they tore her to pieces, she'd feel nothing. At least, Orsino had stood for something she considered right. She recognized the telltale glow of red wafting from her blade. Remembered telling her companions to kill Varric's brother because he was too far gone by now, and figured Meredith was the same. It had gnawed whatever good parts might have existed in her, and left a raw, ugly thing in it's place.
"And here we are," Meredith called, breaking the silence of her army. "At long last." She stood with arms crossed among the center of the throng, her ornate armor and red hood separating her visually from her soldiers. The targets of her gaze were escorted directly before her, where all watched, waiting for the seemingly inevitable moment when the bloodshed would resume.
"It does feel as though we've been building to this for some time," Sophia admitted, tiredly. "You wouldn't have had it so, of course, considering all of the others you sent to kill me in your place."
"And you proved a worthy opponent, but do not think this personal. I am here to see order restored, as always. What happens to you and your friends now is your own doing." A few of the Templars without helmets obstructing their faces caught Sophia's eyes. The Knight-Lieutenants and those of higher rank. Some seemed uncomfortable due to Meredith's words. "In defending the Circle," Meredith continued, "you've chosen to share their fate."
One of the Knight-Captains stepped forward to Meredith's side. Sophia recognized him as Cullen. "Knight-Commander," he said, carefully, "I thought we intended to arrest them. The battle is over. The mages cannot continue the fight."
"You will do as I command, Cullen." Meredith's tone was highly agitated. Cullen was clearly uneasy about his actions, but did not back down.
"No. I defended you when whispers began to accuse you of madness. But this is too far."
A rage, terrifying to behold, sprang up in Meredith's eyes. "I will not allow insubordination!" She pulled her greatsword from her back, and it suddenly pulsed with a bright red energy, a gleaming red shard set above the hilt now glowing powerfully. "We must stay true to our path!"
She leveled the sword directly at Cullen's throat, and the Knight-Captain had no choice but to back away slowly. Many other Templars around him did the same. Meredith turned her head slightly to peer at the various members of the group opposing her. "You recognize it, do you not? Those of you that helped to retrieve it. Pure lyrium, taken from the Deep Roads. The dwarf charged a great deal for his prize."
Ithilian's scarred lip was twisted into a cruel snarl as he watched the sword pulse with energy. He did indeed remember it, and the trouble it brought to everyone who came into contact with it. For years it had been corrupting Meredith's mind, taking what faults she already had and driving them to their extremes. "Whatever power it gained you, that shard has taken much more. Even if you cannot see it... I have a feeling your followers can."
The Knight-Commander widened her stance, readying for a fight, eyes filled with hate. "All of you, I want them dead!"
"Enough!" Cullen cried. "This is not what the Order stands for. Knight-Commander, step down. I relieve you of your command!" The look on Meredith's face turned from one of pure rage to utter shock, almost sadness.
"My own Knight-Captain falls prey to the influence of blood magic." As if saying the very words blood magic stirred something in her, her eyes narrowed again, her gaze now darting around rapidly to random soldiers in her army. "You all have! You're all weak, allowing the mages to control your minds, to turn you against me!" She brandished her sword about, pointing it at some of them, and Templars all around her backed away to make some distance, a few of them cautiously reaching for their weapons.
Meredith turned her blade back towards Sophia. "But I don't need any of you! I will protect this city myself."
The opportunity had come, Sophia could see. Meredith's Templars wavered on a knife's edge, and she needed to give them that last push, for any semblance of justice to win out today. "Templars! Your Knight-Captain has relieved Meredith of command. What is your order, Cullen?"
"Restrain the Knight-Commander," he said, with barely any hesitation. And like the beginning of a wave crashing, when enough of the Templars jumped to heed Cullen's command, the rest followed suit. When the first of them approached Meredith, however, she plunged her blade straight into the stone of the Gallows courtyard, easily cleaving through it, and a bright red sphere of energy formed around her, knocking away and burning the hands of those too close.
Meredith lowered her head and spoke quietly, with deadly intent. "Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter!" She pulled her blade back from the ground, the energy in the air appearing to be absorbed into her body, and charged.
On account, perhaps, of being somewhat near the front beside Lucien, Rilien was the first person she targeted, cleaving downwards between the two of them with a strike so powerful it left a rend in the stone when they managed to duck out of the way. Rilien went left, and Meredith followed. Knowing he had little chance of parrying an attack that strong, he left his knives in a relaxed grip in his hands and focused on outthinking her, predicting where she was likely to go and beginning to dodge just a little ahead of time.
It might have worked quite well, were the proximity of the red lyrium not making him sick again. Just as it had when he sneaked into her chambers to slice off her hair, the object was proving to be more a danger to him than the one who wielded it. He faltered, slowing, and the sword caught him a nasty gash in the right shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards, Meredith following like a hound scenting prey.
Admittedly, intervening by trying to body-slam Meredith was quite possibly the worst plan she ever had, but Estella didn’t really think about it. All she saw was that Rilien’s maneuvering faltered, and that she was close enough now to intervene, so she did, lowering her shoulder and trying to catch the Knight-Commander’s elbow or something.
It was just enough to shift her aim to the side, sparing Rilien the next hit, but Estella rebounded off Meredith like rubber off stone, the Templar’s solidity surprising her with just how absolute it seemed to be, as though Meredith were made of granite or planted into the ground like a tree. Wheeling her arms in an attempt to remain upright, she yelped when the red lyrium blade caught her in the left thigh, slicing deep into her flesh. Her leg buckled, and she tried to roll out of the way of the next blow, knowing it was likely impossible.
Fortunately, she was not alone, and Meredith’s blade clanged off another, Everburn interceding on her behalf. Lucien stepped forward, his shadow falling over her, and she scrambled up to her feet, trying to get further behind him. For Lucien, it was clearly a struggle; Meredith was somehow a good deal stronger even than him, and he could only hold their swords in place for a few seconds before his was forced to the ground, sending sparks into the air where it scraped against the stone beneath them.
Even momentarily, an opening presented itself and Aurora sought to take advantage. Her face remained even and betrayed no emotion, even as she swept around to the side. She swung her staff, conjuring a stonefist it the air and whipping it toward Meredith, and sending a bolt of lightning with the back swing. The force of the stonefist moved Meredith only a step, and didn't seem to cause any lasting damage, while the lightning bolt simply glanced off of her red lyrium sword. Meredith then turned her steely glare toward Aurora, and the look she gave her made her take a step backward. Aurora was no blood mage, but Meredith didn't care about the semantics at this point.
Meredith pushed hard off of the ground, hard enough that her foot left a divot in the cobblestones. Quicker than a human could possibly be, she stood in front of Aurora, her sword pulled back to cut her in half. Aurora barely had enough time to throw up a wall a stone between her and Meredith, obscuring the line of sight enough to push herself back out of the killzone. Still, Meredith cut through the stone like paper, and Aurora could feel her mana being eaten away as the sword carved a thin crimson line down her collar. The ferocity pushed Aurora back and caused her to trip onto her back.
It was only her self-preservation instincts that caused her to fling another stonefist toward her face before desperately trying to roll away.
Fortunately, Estella had intervened in time when Sparrow could not. A rattling roar ripped from her throat as she hurtled forward, just in time for Meredith to be pushed aside. A neat spray of blood spattered from Estella's thigh, and Lucien stepped forward to take her place. Things were happening quickly. She'd misjudged Meredith's strength, her erratic speed. Her hair was damp with sweat, already plastered to her head. Sweat dripped from her chin, dripped on the ground. She ground her teeth together and floundered forward, gripping onto the anger as if it were her mace. A wound from the inside of her mouth wept like copper: bitten to keep the fear at bay.
As soon as Meredith rounded on Aurora, another ferocious howl came from her mouth. No clever little words to draw her attention away, only electricity pulsing through the shaft of her mace, crackling from the flanged stars. A war cry that promised death and demise and endings. What little magic she had boiled in her, like small, raging hisses begging to be released. Her slow jog quickened and broke into a shambling sprint. She barely managed to lug the mace behind her. It bounced off the cobblestones and scratched the surface as Aurora tripped backwards, and Meredith hissed in front of her, plunging the luminescent blade through the rocky wall.
Kirkwall was in flames. And its people were faring little better. It seemed as if their worlds had always been shaken by unseen, faceless forces, but now there was a face. Hers. She skidded to an abrupt stop, dug her heels in, and swung the mace up and over her shoulder, directing it towards Meredith's exposed head. She turned, impossibly quick. Whipped around so quickly, she'd expected to crush bone instead of clash against dazzling steel. Sparrow bunched her shoulders, and snarled into Meredith's blade. She would win. And this would all end. She didn't feel the blade slicing into the shaft of her mace, didn't feel the tip of her blade biting through her dragonskin leathers, prickling into her chest.
Sophia interceded before Meredith could do as much damage to Sparrow as she'd planned. Her blade clanged against the Knight-Commander's glowing red weapon, and was actually more effective than she'd expected. The attack was driven aside, and a hard shove of her shoulder drove the woman back a few steps. Sensing an opportunity, Sophia pushed her advantage.
Meredith growled in frustration, and the idol in her blade glowed more brightly for a second, the light soon spreading to her eyes. The clear blue of her irises was soon overwhelmed by a piercing red, glowing from within, as though flames sprang from her very eyes. Sophia arrived before her and traded a few strikes, to find that she was no longer having the effect she briefly witnessed.
The Knight-Commander caught a downward strike of Sophia's and was quick to lash out with a kick to her gut, sending Sophia onto her back. She scrambled back in an attempt to get away from Meredith's blade, but it was Cullen in the end who spared her the next blow, charging in to face his former leader. She parried a few of his strikes before returning one of her own, a powerful smash that rattled his shield and sent him stumbling away. He was clearly feeling shooting pains up his entire arm.
The effort was appearing to take a toll on Meredith, as she heaved for breath. Sophia wondered if using the idol to enhance her abilities was not costing her physically in the long run of the battle. "Maker," Meredith hissed, even her voice altered to be more powerful in volume by the idol, "your servant begs you for the strength to defeat this evil!" Sophia, having risen back to her feet, made another charge for Meredith.
The woman plunged her sword again into the Courtyard's stone, and a blast of red lightning exploded from within her. The force of it stopped Sophia cold, while the arc of lightning that struck her sent intense pain through her body, leaving her limbs shaking and unresponsive. Similar arcs lashed out to anyone else close enough, and one caught an arrow straight out of the air from Ithilian's bow.
The elf had been stalking around the edges of the fight, wary of the Templars watching as much as Meredith herself. He had waited for a shot to present itself, but the fight was too chaotic, Meredith too quick, and his allies too many and too disorganized. Now that he had taken a shot, it was wasted. He watched as blasts of the red lightning bounced in a direct line across the entire distance of the courtyard, knocking aside any Templars that stood in the way. It skipped up the side of a wall and crackled into the body of a great statue in bronze, forged in the image of an ancient Tevinter soldier. The statue was constructed of several pieces, probably twenty feet tall, and wielding a massive bronze polearm in both hands.
It look harmless enough when still, but the idol's lightning infected it with some kind of magical energy, causing the head to start spinning in place, and then the entire body after it. The eyes lighting up with the same malicious red light, the statue leapt down from its perch overlooking the smaller slave statues pinned covering their faces on the pillars. It landed with a terrible crash, shaking the ground, and a more terrible attack followed, when the bronze polearm cleaved the heads of two Templars from their bodies.
The lightning spread to several of the slave statues as well, and they at last showed their unsculpted faces, as they climbed down into the battle, and joined the soldier in attacking the Templars and anyone too close. These were ten feet or so in hand and devoid of any massive weapons, but still dangerously strong. Ithilian defensively rolled out of the way when one tried to stomp him with a massive bronze foot.
Sophia was barely able to move her arms again when Meredith launched forward for a strike. She managed to get her sword in the way, and the block likely saved her life, but the weight of Meredith's blow still smashed heavily into her side, tossing her aside like a small child rather than a grown woman. She clattered to the ground in a heap, losing her grip on her sword, where she could momentarily only writhe in pain.