AN: Thanks once more to
@RedrumSprinkles for her help in fixing this up. Hope you guys enjoy, and leave your thoughts!
Today, Sigmar's foes were human. Mages perhaps, but none who used the fell magics of the great enemy. Not yet at least. They threw fire and lightning, heedless of the cautious but true methods of the Colleges of Altdorf, and were eventually doomed to destruction.
Reinhardt let Cassandra and Blackwall take the brunt of the spellfire, deferring to their training and experience in the matter. He concentrated on the mundane traitor. Numerous and well equipped, these Venatori could have been troublesome if they came at them in formation. As it was however,sheer numbers were more than sufficient.
"The foul Orcs came at them, their numbers legion!" Reinhardt roared as he caved in a soldier's skull. "They stood taller and more bestial than any man, and wielded twice the strength of champions!" He continued as he fought on.
"All of them fell before Ghal Maraz, wielded by Sigmar! In single combat did he slay Urgluk Bloodfang, and with it, did he steal victory at Black Fire pass!" he roared as he smashed in a cultist's skull.
Though outnumbered, the terrain still favored the Inquisition. These Venatori didn't bother with trying to take down the palisades, even with their magical superiority. They just threw themselves against the smaller Inquisition force again and again.
Honestly, if they were green and bigger, Reinhardt would've thought he was dealing with an orc waagh. The fact that they eschewed tactics and strategy told him that they were confident enough in their numbers to destroy them.
He prayed to Myrmidia that this strategy of theirs would work. A cunning plan where they turned the very terrain against these mad men. Then the odds would be even.
He pushed onwards, guarding the engineers as they prepared their shot. They had just the one, as it would be impossible to load another amidst the scrum.
Reinhardt ducked and weaved, swinging with a strength bolstered by faith in his god. Skulls were smashed, armor rent, and blood was spilt as he fought the fight of the Empire, standing tall and defiant against the legions of enemies that befell them.
"Maker guide us, fire!" he heard, over the din of battle. A with a loud cry, the trebuchet threw its load, streaking through the sky.
Reinhardt risked a glance, and he watched the missile streak onwards to a mountain side, its tail like… the twin tailed comet.
Reinhardt grinned, like a lone wolf that was joined by a pack. This… this was a sign as sure as any that they were blessed. This battle would be theirs. With a roar, he threw himself back into the fight, his fatigue gone, confident in the knowledge that today he did Sigmar's work.
He pushed himself further, driving forth the wedge of uncertainty that now befell the cultists. With each swing he took, he drove them further to a rout, and with that victory, Sigmar and Myrmidia be praised, they would triumph over the enemy.
The tell tale beat of wings made Reinhardt turn… and to his horror he witnessed his doom. There it was, in its corrupted glory, what must be a corrupted dragon as it spewed out a blast of energy from its breath, destroying the trebuchet.
Reinhardt was thrown by the explosion, his ears ringing as he blearily propped himself up with his hammer.
"We have but one choice now," he said as Eve ran up to check on him. "We must flee."
"And abandon the villagers?" she asked.
"No. we rescue who we can, and hold off these cultists as long as we can." Reinhardt sighed, accepting his doom. "We… we may die here this night, but we will not go quietly."
"Then we must gather who we can, bring them to the Chantry. It's our sturdiest building." she sighed, as she gripped her sword tighter. At a nod, Reinhardt grabbed his maul and prepared himself for the fight of his life.
Together, they sallied forth, back into the village. They rescued whoever they could from the cruel blades of the Venatori, for they took no offer of surrender. The Venatori offered no quarter. It was for the best, Reinhardt supposed. Any prisoners would likely face a fate worse than death if they did.
Again and again, did he throw himself into the thickest of the fights. Saving whoever he could, taking blows that dented his armor, as he sacrificed in Sigmar's name. For every life he saved, and cultist finished, he offered each unto Sigmar, in praise for everything Sigmar has given.
"Foul Undead, Orc and the Wicked," he roared as he slammed into another cultist. "Alone, the tribes could not stand. United, none could stand against them!" He roared, singing praises in His name.
Tonight, the enemies of Man may take his life, but he will make them pay
dearly for it.
When Eve declared, they had done all they had after saving a score of villagers, Reinhardt followed her lead back towards the Chantry, slaying any cultists along the way.
The Chantry's floor was bathed in blood. The wounded were being tended to by overtaxed surgeons and exhausted mages. It looked like for every one person they saved from Morr, another three found their way to his Gardens.
"Cullen," Eve said to the approaching commander. "Tell me you have a plan."
"I'm afraid I have no plans for taking down an archdemon," he sighed. "Any time you've bought for us was taken when that
thing cleared the way for the rest of the Venatori."
Archdemon eh? Fitting name for a herald of doom. It was no Chaos tainted beast but… it was still
wrong.
"So far the only thing stopping the Elder One from destroying us all is
you." Dorian pointed out to Eve. "Crushing all of us means destroying you, and… well he's destroying just about everything in his way to get to you."
"Me?" she gasped. "Why would anyone want me? Is it because I'm the 'Herald'? If it means stopping the slaughter of innocents I'd gladly surrender."
"Don't," Dorian sighed. "Those who didn't accept his rule in Redcliffe… it didn't end well."
"All that's left is to spite the enemy," Reinhardt declared. "We must make them pay for every life they take from now till the end."
"There's a way we can make them pay far far more than with what we have." Cullen smiled, a grin full of hate. "I spotted a surviving trebuchet before we closed the Chantry. We can turn it towards the mountains above us. One last avalanche to drown our enemies."
"I didn't come all this way to die thank you very much," Dorian huffed. "I'm certain we've still got alternatives."
"There is one," gasped a man, laying by the side, hand clutched towards his stomach. He did not have long for this world before Morr would claim him.
"Chancellor Roderick? What are you talking about?" Cassandra asked, her voice gentle.
"There is a path into the mountains…" he wheezed. "Andraste must..must have shown it."Only those who have taken the Summer pilgrimage would have known of it… to be the last." he coughed as Dorian immediately jumped towards him, tending to the wounded man as best he can.
"We have no time to lose then," Eve declared as she turned towards the rest of the group. At a nod, Reinhardt and the others volunteered for the fight of their lives. They would hold so that others may live. Sigmar help them all.
"Wait for us to reach the treeline…" Cullen said, a sad smile on his face. "I wish you all luck. Maker guide you all."
Reinhardt and the others sallied out of the chantry, like heroes of old. Bull and the warriors by his side, a solid wall of steel demolishing all in their way. Sera and Varric picked off anyone they see while a familiar young lad weaved between the lines, striking at targets of opportunity.
Finally the Mages reminded the world of their power. The raw elements of the world, fire and lightning, ice and pure metal unleashed upon the enemies of man.
Yet Reinhardt knew that the enemies they felled were but a drop in the ocean. They must reach that damn trebuchet to give the refugees a fighting chance. Maybe it will be they who shall finish the fight.
Left and right, he swung his hammer, singing praises in His name. All eyes turned to them, and so long as the enemy saw the gnat, they would not see the others flee.
An eternity of fighting later, and they had reached the weapon, miraculously intact and loaded after the fighting. Mustering what strength he could, Reinhardt grabbed one end of a gear, while Bull grabbed the other. Together, ever so slowly, they pushed the weapon into position while the others fended off what had to be an entire regimen of men.
Briefly he caught glimpses of what went on around him. Cassandra, emulating the Templars in countering the enemy's foul sorceries. Kat, summoning Chamon to turn flesh to gold. Varric and Sera, performing shots that would've turned a Hochlander green with envy.
Yet for Reinhardt, there was nothing now, but the damn gears of this ancient weapon, and him turning it. He strained against the lever, the exhaustion of battle creeping up on him, yet with a roar he did pushed harder again, even as fireballs flew over his head.
Dimly he heard his name, before a searing heat threw him flying and straight into Bull… then darkness.
In and out of consciousness, he heard vaguely the cries of battle. Echoes on the wind. Glimpses of what was going on. Kat turning sorcerers into gold. Eve rallying the others together. The dread wings of that dragon.
All that time, he said, he hoped he said his final prayers onto Sigmar and Morr. He detailed everything he has done, his deeds, and his hopes, his sacrifices unto Sigmar. He hoped it was enough, to have lived a life such as this.
He saw one mage, a cruel grin plastered on her face as she summoned forth fire in her hand. In that moment, everything was clear. He knew what words he spoke, he could make out every detail on her face. From the jagged scar above her lip to the white of her teeth.
He smiled, as he finished what he figured was his last prayer to Sigmar.
"Sigmar, suffer not the witch to live." he breathed.
Fire rained from the sky, illuminating everything in Sigmar's holy light. Eve and her company were untouched, shock displayed on all their faces, even as the Venatori were caught in Sigmar's holy fire. Reinhardt smiled as he relaxed, knowing his duty was done.
He felt himself be slung up onto someone's shoulder, the breeze of the wind as someone ran and he quietly slammed against bare skin. He struggled to open his eyes, to see the battle finish at least.
In the end, he opened his eyes to see Haven below, and a burning twin tailed rock slam against the side of the mountain, and Haven was no more.