Cullen keeps those loyal to him rallied and organized, structures them into the most effective fighting force they can manage under such extreme circumstances and duress. He cuts down some of those still loyal to Meredith himself, fueled by self-directed disgust that it has taken him this long to see her for what she has become and the thought that but for a little fortitude against crippling doubt from his past, he might have prevented this.

The battle rages long with more of Hawke's companions and a few unknown elements joining in against the impossible statues and Meredith's frenzy. There are moments in the fight when all of them are stunned and rendered useless by some mental force Meredith exerts. He fights it with every fiber of his being, reminded far too closely of the demons that sought purchase in his mind years before.

In the end, it's not any of their combined might that is her undoing, but her own mad overreach for power. He watches in mute horror when the red energy consumes her from the inside out and renders her to insensate, smoking slag. One look is all he needs with Hawke. There has been enough bloodshed and loss here tonight. His quarrel has never been with his fellow Fereldan and won't be now. They flee and leave him with stunned templars and a ruined courtyard.

And still the night isn't done. "You." He points to a Knight-Lieutenant he trusts. "Take a third of this force and secure the Gallows. Mercy for any mage who doesn't resist with blood magic, and be damned certain that abomination in the ritual chamber is dead and destroyed."

He gestures for the rest to gather round him. "I know you're exhausted. No less than I, but we must return to the city tonight. The guard cannot hold against the horrors roaming the streets. They need our aid. Kirkwall needs our aid. We must not fail them. Back to the ferry. Maker guard us all."