Maric was impressed. “How many more of those do you have in you?” he asked her. No answer was forthcoming as the elf swooned and fell backwards. He rushed forward and caught her, his heart jumping as he noted how pale she already was, sweat pouring down her brow.
She blinked rapidly and pushed herself back to her feet. “A few more,” she gritted out. The darkspawn ignored their burning comrades, leaping over them and rushing through the flames even as they got seared. More arrows rapidly struck those at the front. Fiona let out a scream of effort and a second fireball launched itself into the darkspawn ranks, the blast sending a wave of heat and charred stench past Maric.
More were already pushing their way into the cavern, though it was getting difficult to see through the flames and the smoke. He coughed and blinked his eyes at the haze. It seemed the dwarven ventilation ducts were simply not as good here—or, more likely, they were gummed up with the same filth that covered everything else.
So be it. Better to suffocate than die at the hands of these monsters, if need be.
He darted forward as the first hurlock raced up the steps, its flesh scorched black and its translucent eyes filled with raw hatred. He knocked its blade aside with his own and then spun around, beheading the creature in one clean stroke. Ichor fountained from the stump, splattering over his armor, but he ignored it.
More darkspawn were already racing toward him. An arrow whizzed by his ear from behind him, striking one of the creatures and sending it tumbling down the stairs. He lifted his sword and charged. With the more heavily armored Grey Wardens either dead or gone, it fell to Maric to hold the front line as best he could. If only the stairs were narrower.
Another fireball passed over his head as he met the first darkspawn blade, parrying it with a shower of sparks. He didn’t see the blast of flame as the fireball hit its target in the distance, but the wave of sound and searing heat was almost enough to knock him back. Several of the darkspawn in front of him fell; he used the opportunity to plunge his sword into the back of one of their necks.
Thick smoke billowed into his face and he gagged, and then fell back as a genlock in spiked, tattered plate armor leaped at him and slammed into his chest. Maric grunted in pain as his head hit the stairs, and he watched with horror as the genlock gleefully reared up with its club and prepared to bring it down upon his head.
Utha tackled it, flying right over Maric. All he saw was a flash of brown robes and her long, coppery braid, and the creature was torn off of him. He jumped up just in time to see the dwarf striking down with her fist into the genlock’s face beneath her, crushing its snout and sending both ichor and fangs splattering in all directions. Without pausing, she spun and kicked a charging hurlock in its chest and sent it hurtling back down the stairs.
More arrows flew overhead. Maric quickly raised his sword to defend himself as a pale-skinned hurlock attacked out of nowhere. It brought its large blade down in an overhand strike that he was only barely able to parry. The force of the blow rang through his shoulders. Grunting with effort, he pushed the darkspawn’s blade up and off his own and then thrust the pommel into its forehead. Bone gave way with a sickening crunch and it squealed in pain, falling to the ground.
Duncan rushed at two hurlocks that attempted to race by Maric on the stairs, their swords raised as they hissed in rage. One of his silverite daggers slashed across the throat of one and it fell back, clutching at the gushing wound. The other hurlock swung its sword down, roaring, but he easily danced aside.
Dropping into a crouch, Duncan sliced the creature across its shins with his second dagger. The blade cut deep into its bones, and it stumbled to the ground with an angry squeal. Barely pausing, the young Grey Warden leaped up into the air and brought both his daggers to bear with a flourish. He landed on top of the darkspawn with a war cry, plunging both the daggers into the monster’s head. It spasmed once and then was still.
Then another wave of darkspawn was upon Maric and he couldn’t see anything other than the opponents directly in front of him. He swung his longsword in wide arcs in front of him, less concerned with artistry than in just forcing the creatures back down the steps. The blue runes on his blade were glowing more brilliantly than he had ever seen them before, and it seemed to make the darkspawn reel back the moment they came too near.
Acrid smoke got into his eyes. The foul stench of burned flesh threatened to overwhelm him. He sliced off the sword hand of a hurlock, sending its weapon flying, and then kicked it hard in its armored breastplate. Screaming, it fell back down the stairs, knocking several others down on its way and ending up impaled on the spear of one of its own comrades.
The stairs had become littered with darkspawn corpses, and enough of the creatures had reached the dais that it was becoming crowded and chaotic. Sweat poured down his face, his breathing labored from the thin air. He glanced over to see Kell not far away, his flail whipping around him in circles, its spiky head tearing out darkspawn throats. Hafter fought at his side, his fangs dripping black ichor and his fur matted with red blood that must have been his own.
Maric was wounded, as well. He felt the puncture in his thigh left by a spear that had managed to bypass his guard, and it was slowing him down. Even so, he couldn’t stop. He swung his sword hard at a genlock that attempted to race past him, cutting it down. Then he spun about and impaled another genlock that raced at him with black blade raised high.
Where was Fiona? He looked around frantically for a sign of the mage, but saw nothing but chaotic fighting. He caught a glimpse of Utha fighting nearby, grimacing with determination and splattered in black ichor, but there was too much smoke and chaos for him to see much farther. He should have stayed closer to Fiona. He should have guarded her instead of rushing ahead.
Maric paused as he heard a new sound over the din: a guttural roar, deeper and louder than anything he’d heard previously. He looked down the stairs and saw another creature appear. It was a massive, muscled thing with blue skin and twisted black horns, almost demonic looking. It spotted Maric and uttered a furious bellow, displaying razor-sharp fangs and emitting a spray of thick spittle.
“Ogre!” he heard Kell shout with alarm from nearby.
The creature raced up the stairs, overrunning its own darkspawn comrades and swinging its meaty fists to bash them out of its way. It had its milky-white eyes set on one target: Maric. Two hurlocks in front of him tried to get out of its way, but the ogre was impatient. It stepped on one, crushing it underfoot with a sickening crunching noise, and slapped the other aside so hard it went flying and slammed against the wall of the cavern.
Maric braced himself as the creature charged, leveling his blade in front of him and staring intensely. It roared another challenge and swung a massive fist down at him. He rolled to the side, barely avoiding the strike, and came up on his feet without taking his eyes off the creature. Chunks of stone flew from the stairs; a large crack was left behind. The ogre paused and turned its horned head toward him, glaring as if suddenly aware Maric would not be such an easy kill.
The creature ran at him and swiped repeatedly with its taloned hands. Any one of those strikes could tear his head off, he thought. He ducked under the first swipe and then rolled forward to avoid the second, slashing at the ogre’s legs as he passed. The blade cut easily through the creature’s thick blue hide, black ichor spitting from the wound.