Clawing through depression to play bits of Jaws of Hakkon got me thinking about an Inquisitor as companion drabble:
My iron boot hammered onto the stone floor. “I may not have your authority, Knight-Commander! I have held my tongue for years but Andraste has showed me your folly! I will speak my mind today!”
“‘Lady’ Kaya Trevelyan!” the knight-commander barked. I hated that nickname. I gave up my family’s nobility. My deeds speak to my character not my blood. “These apostates will be put to the sword!”
“They are children!” I shouted back. “I will not murder them!”
“It is not murder in the Light of the Chantry.” Before I raise my shield, two of my fellow templars grabbed my arms. The Knight-Commander killed the young mage couple with his broadsword. I couldn’t fight back the scream. And the templars on my arms couldn’t fight my rage. Blood rushed, tears poured, and templars flew to the ground. I borrowed a sword from one and wheeled around. Three more behind me, six including the Knight-Commander and the two on the ground.
Before they could draw their swords I had mine in one’s throat. I left it there and took his weapon. I parried the templar on my right. Blocked the other with the shield on my back. The air was full of ringing. Metal on metal never pissed me off more. I lifted the sword quickly and powerfully knocking the templar off his balance. I wrenched the sword from the fallen man’s throat and swung. A blow hit me hard in the back. The lunge forward gave my swing the force needed to lob off the other’s forearms but I ended on the ground. Blood had sprayed my face. It felt good. I felt righteous. I could feel Andraste guide my limbs, I couldn’t see now, faith was my eyes.
I dropped my weapons and rolled. A swift kick to the leg toppled the third templar onto me. I found a space in her armor and drove my gauntlet’s sharp thumb into her flesh. She was the one I’d regret but right now she was just meat in the way of Andraste’s light. I found the rest of my fingers in the opening. Then they found her throat. I pulled.
I got to my feet but so did the first two templars I threw. I drew my sword and shield, both given to me by my brothers. “Gregor! Darion! Drop your weapons and leave. The Knight-Commander is corrupt! This order is corrupt! I will not let evil loose under the name of good.” They held their stances. “Then it’s too late to save you any other way.”
I roared and charged. My shield deflected blows. My sword found meat.
Two more down. One left. I had no words for him. Only steel. His broadsword swung wildly. He was scared. It found my face. I gained a new scar to match the many I boasted there. It zigzaged from my lip to my forehead, almost catching my eye. I stabbed up through his breastplate. His gurgling told me I’d found his wicked heart.
When I regained my bearings I was at the Circle. I’d killed every templar who wouldn’t see the truth of the order. Some were regrets, most were duty to Andraste. I rushed the mages to freedom. They were dangerous, all power is, but they were pure of heart. I had mingled with them for a long time I trusted them more than my ordermates. Today proved that.
I destroyed the phylacteries, burned the tower down, and left to the town guard. I collapsed to my knees at their door. “Andraste has guided my sword. She told me to snuff the darkness at her Chantry’s heart. I killed the templars of Ostwick. As many of them as I could find. They were killing and tranquillizing innocent mages. They took bribes and sold mages to slavers and brothels. They framed mages to build hate. They did not exemplify the Chantry. They did not represent Andraste. I am no longer a templar. I am a champion of justice and the people should see me pay for my crimes.”
Kaya Trevelyan shrugged in the moonlight filtering in through the jail window. “A few transfers later and that is how I ended up in this cell, Herald of Andraste. Now tell me, how did you end up on the other side of my bars?”
