Her year in servitude to Athenril and her smugglers was finally over. As Sangria Hawke strode through Hightown, excitement and nerves created butterflies in her stomach. There was word of an expedition into the Deep Roads, and now that she was no longer working for the smugglers, she needed money, and fast. The Deep Roads harbored all sorts of goods, and for Carver and herself, it seemed like the best thing they could find. Gamlen couldn't save money for anything, and Mother still thought of how much she'd lost too much to focus on a job.
For a year, it had been fine. Now, staff resting against her back, robes brushing the ground, the young mage faced up to what she had to do. Her robes rustled as her feet moved, pursuing the dwarf offering an opportunity for her and Carver.
"Andraste's tits human. Do you know how many people want to hire on to this expedition? "
Dwarves. Sometimes, she almost wished she was a dwarf. Magic wouldn't bother her, demons wouldn't whisper to her at night, and if she wasn't a mage, things with her and her brother would probably be better. But then she wouldn't be who she was. And let's face it, it was rather nice to have a brother who sort of hero worshipped her even as he hated being in her shadow. And running from "her" templars as he sometimes said. She mentally shook herself to get herself back on track.
"Look, we know you're going into the Deep Roads, you'll need to hire the best and we're-" Sangria had the sudden urge to punch a dwarf when he cut her brother off with a sharp, angry "No! You're too late, already done!"
"The money from this trip could fix everything! You need us, we've fought darkspawn." Everything? Now that was a bit over the top, but Sangria continued to let her brother do the talking. He loved the chance to harass people. He'd probably make a good templar, he certainly went head to head with her enough he could probably take on any mage.
When he spoke of the darkspawn a moment of weakness fell over her. Just over a year ago she'd fought those blighted things. They took her sister. While Mother had since apologized for her angry words at Bethany's death, Sangria couldn't help but feel they still rang true. She was older, more experienced, by far the stronger mage. But her sister had wanted to prove herself, and had lost her life. Sangria should have stopped her. She was far from eager to have a repeat experience with them, but this expedition was her best chance at taking care of the two members of her family that mattered. Well, three, but Gamlen had dug his own holes, and she wasn't looking forward to digging him out.
"Look, I don't care if you tore the horns off an ogre with your bare hands." Ah, in her angriest dreams, Sangria had let the ogre burn a slow, painful death for killing her sister. Those were some of her favorites. However dreams didn't really factor into reality. Well sometimes for her they did but that was the price of being a mage. Again, she felt an almost envy of dwarves.
"You make him understand. We're running from you're bloody templars."
'Aye, there's the rub.' Sangria thought as Carver went into his I hate that my life sucks cuz my sisters a mage mindset. The near hero worship would come back to play later, but Sangria turned to face Bartrand again.
"I know my brother can be hot-headed, but we do have the skills to aid your expedition." 'Though I must admit, letting Carver punch him in the face might be fun. However that's not going to help Mother at all.'
"You're looking for a quick way out of the slums right? You and every other Ferelden in this dump." Every other Fereldan in this dump didn't have to put up with Gamlen's whining. She thought she should have a metal, and from Carver's quips and growing agitation, seemed she was starting to have Gamlen following her around as well. Definitely needed a metal.
"Find another meal ticket." With that Bartrand walked away. For a moment, Sangria could feel the heat of a fireball growing in her palm in reaction to her frustration, and she almost let it build, opening her palms to allow more oxygen to feed the flames before Carver's hand descended on her arm. "It's bad enough you walk about proudly with that staff of yours, no need to scream 'Hello Templars I'm a mage' any louder than you already do." Ah bitter Carver. Then of course he had to add to it "Well, back to waiting for someone to turn us in."
Sangria shot him a look. "You can relax. After all the templars dogging us are mine."
"Do I sound that bad? Maker, I'm turning into Gamlen."
Well, seemed Bartrand wasn't going anywhere. She also didn't know what else she could possibly do. She felt like she needed to win him over somehow. However that wasn't likely to happen, he seemed set against it. She almost wished she had removed the ogres head. 1) It would be great decoration for Gamlen's little shack and 2) It would be oh so fun to use to make a point.
"Speaking of Gamlen, much as I dismay to say it, this may be our only chance. So, how shall we patch things up? Think he could help us?"
"He has a head for this garbage. Perhaps he can talk to Bartrand."
Sangria's first thought was 'Ah yes, Gamlen helping us out ended lovely last time. Almost turned to a mercenary, though Carver would have loved that, instead made some money and got to be a smuggler for a time. What will it be this time I wonder? Lick Bartrands boots til they sparkle because Gamlen owes him?'
"Not as if we have anyone else to turn to." Was what she decided to say. Carver was bitter enough for both of them, she needn't add to his stress.
"I don't fancy waking up in the Gallows."
Before Sangria could get another sharp-tongued retort in, a boy bumped into her, and quite hard. She ignored it and kept moving for a bit…right up until she noticed she felt a little lighter. 'Hmm, I don't think I lost weight in seconds.'
She turned around, once more feeling her mana spark up in response, icy cold in her palm, but before she could freeze the blighted bugger, a click caught her attention, then a blur of motion that ended in the boys shoulder, pinning him to a wall. "I want to learn that trick! Then again, being a dragon would still be more useful. Id love to see the templars come after me if I could do that shapeshift thing that witch lady could."
Carver rolled his eyes and muttered something negative about magic before the previous owner of the bolt that now resided in the boys shoulder started towards her, with pouch in hand. The cold faded from her palm, leaving a slight tingling sensation behind, but otherwise she could feel herself in control again."
She smiled a little when she noticed the crossbow man punched the boy before swiftly removing he bolt.
"How do you do? Varric Tethras, at your service!"
She was almost thinking she'd have to forcefully take her pouch back, this guy had the air about him that he knew what he was doing with stealing money pouches, so she was surprised when he simply tossed it back to her.
"I apologize for Bartrand. He wouldn't know an opportunity if it hit him square in the jaw."
A smile flitted over Sangria's face at the thought of Bartrand getting punched. However, this was business.
"But you would?"
"Yes I would. Bartrands too proud. I, however, am quite practical."
Sangria raised her eyebrow inquisitively. "So what exactly is your interest in the expedition? You're a little short to be a Ferelden."
"I couldn't possibly let the head of the household go into the Deep Roads by himself. What we need is a partner though, not another sword for hire. 50 sovereigns. Bartrand is having quite the difficulty scraping together the coin for this."
"50 sovereigns? Ah yes, I'll go pull the money pouch I keep my millions in out from under my bed right now!"
The…dwarf she assumed then if Bartrand was his brother, though the lack of beard was a bit surprising to her, chuckled at that. "I can help you find jobs, and if you don't need me for that, there's always Bianca." He gestured cheerfully up to his crossbow.
Sangria raised an eyebrow once more. She had a feeling she'd either be laughing herself half to death or getting a twitch in her eye from spending time with this dwarf, but it was true. There was Aveline, and Gamlen was always complaining about how many letters she got, some of which were regarding jobs and such. Previously they'd been from Athenril, but if people like Varric knew of her so highly already, there was a good chance she could find more work that way as well. And come to think of it, 50 sovereigns was probably nothing compared to how much she could make on this trip, split 3 ways or not.
"Well I didn't have anything else planned so sure, let's go with that."
"Perfect! I have a room at the Hanged Man. We need to talk a bit, but not out here, far too open. Meet me there in a couple hours. You know the place right?"
"Know the place? I practically live there! Well, when I'm not out and about anyway."
Varric chuckled. "Good, then you'll owe me drinks when this goes well."
Well that had been fun to explain to Mother. Her mother would find out at some point, so Sangria decided it was probably best her mother knew what she was up to too begin with. "Oh my babies, I wish it hadn't come to this. At least when you come back from the expedition we should have our history back."
'Your history mom, not mine and certainly not Carver's' she thought. Though he was more open with the feeling of loss than she was; she thought of it as just making her mother happy where as Carver thought of it as rebuilding a life he wasn't a part of.
Recently, Sangria had managed to sneak into the estate that had brought them all here in the first place for a last will that Gamlen conveniently left behind when he sold the place to slavers to settle a few debts. Instead of running around doing everyone elses work, she should be living the high life in a fancy estate. But at least Mother was going to try and petition the Viscount for their estate back since it was actually willed to her.
That had led to a conversation with Carver about how he didn't feel like he fit in. Well, big surprise there, Carver brooding about something. But he did make a point. While in the bowels of the estate, Sangria had discovered papers that led her to finding out Carver was named after the templar who had saved her father from the circle and let him run off with her mother. She understood how he felt, considering Sangria had had to step in and take control for everyone's life when she didn't even know what to do with hers. She didn't feel that she had a part in this rebuild either. She'd made a name for herself doing Athenril's dirty work, that was very true, but to live in a high estate? What would people think? Would she be admired or hated. With her luck probably both, which would just confuse her more.
But she pushed those thoughts to the side. She needed to go see what it was Varric had wanted, talk to Aveline, and actually will herself to read through the letters she had piling up on the desk to see how she was going to gather 50 sovereigns. Not reading them was part too many words to focus on in her mindset, and part pissing off Gamlen. She could see his point, but didn't change the fact he'd pretty much sold her into servitude to get her in, and by selling everything her grandparents had left Leandra made her have to go about getting Mother's life back together. He deserved a little bit of a headache. She shook off those thoughts though. She was here, and even if it hadn't been what she was expecting on arrival, she was still content with having her family safe. Lothering was gone, she couldn't go home, so she was going to make a life here for her brother and Mother. The past was irrelevant now.
A smile cracked her bad mood as the soft grumbling of the family's mabari Bear sleeping in the corner where she kept records and recipes of potions and runes and poisons she might need someday. Most of the poisoning and explosions and enchanting of weapons and armor she could do herself, benefits of being a mage, but having a back-up plan never hurt.
It was almost night-time already, good time to go visit the Hanged Man. Part of her wanted to get drunk and forget her worries, but at this time of night if she lost control or got daring with her magic without her limiting mind, she could hurt a lot of people. Granted, it was Lowtown and most of the people at the Hanged Man were thieves and beggars and crooked sales people that no one would really miss, but it didn't change the fact she didn't need any more death on her hands than was necessary. Plus, killing was fun, she was good at it, she'd rather be aware of what and why she was killing someone.
Her year of servitude had gotten her some more comfortable clothes than running around in a dress all day and night, but pants were still a little weird to her, and the padded top felt heavier than she wanted. She was a mage not a warrior, she didn't need extra weight making it harder. But she had to save money for the expedition she couldn't go running around buying robes. Not yet any way. She'd treat herself when she could.
Even at night there was life in Lowtown. Life and stink. God the place wreaked of desperation and garbage, but it was better than Darktown still, so she couldn't really complain. Carver had wanted to go with her to talk to Varric but he had said alone, so she convinced Mother to tell him he needed to stay home and help her try and clean the place. Carver already begrudged Sangria everything, she didn't feel too bad about making him help mother. There was still cheese from a year ago just sitting in their room. If she didn't have to clean it but could enjoy some semblance of cleanliness she was taking the advantage.
It was a short walk from Gamlen's hovel to the Hanged Man and she paused outside the door, allowing herself a moment of relaxation to catch her breath. Hiding her pains behind humor was a hard task, she needed moments of weakness now and then. And she certainly had a long few days to look forward to trying to make the money to get in to the expedition before it left. Granted she doubted it would leave without Varric who had promised to vouch for her. She didn't know what to make of the dwarf. She had a feeling he knew exactly how to lie but she didn't really have another option. Plus he seemed funny. Had the same sort of humor she did. So it would probably be a successful partnership.
She sighed and prepared herself for the hustle and bustle of the Hanged Man this late and walked in. A bar fight was going on near the bar but she ignored it, walking over to the bartender. "Hello Corff my best friend! You know you love me right?"
"Only one free drink tonight Hawke. You helped me out when Athenril tried to get me, but after tonight no more freebies. Earn your own drinks." He said, teasing light heartedly. He kept her up to date with the news and she believed he had a thing for her, but she did know her way around men. Least when it came to flirting with them. When her advances were actually taken to heart she typically shied away. Humorously of course, but getting close to anyone scared her.
"Aww you're no fun. You know I'll just use my charms on you again next time, but for tonight I've actually got business here. Where a dwarf named Varric staying? We're going to be part of an expedition together and we needed to plan it out."
Corff gulped a little at the beautiful near white blue eyes peering out at him from a slightly tanned face framed in auburn curls. Sometimes it was braided in a half ponytail, but tonight it seemed she wasn't standing on ceremony and she had decided to leave it down. But he just laughed lightly instead of letting himself dwell on that. She was probably right, he'd give her free drinks if she really asked for them. "Up the stairs, straight ahead of you. Can't miss it. Damned dwarf stole my finest room but he's paying for it so I can't really complain."
Sangria laughed her infectious laugh and winked at him, blowing him a kiss before turning and heading up the stairs at the back of the bar area that lead to the rooms. Why did this guy need her to run around and get money for him if he had enough money to afford the suite Corff had upstairs? Ok so it was a pretty run down place, with awful alcohol you just had to settle for cuz it was cheap, and the suite wasn't all that nice and not many people even stayed at the inn. She was being foolish again but she was allowed foolish thoughts, long as she wasn't too foolish in her actions.
"Hawke! I'm glad you came! Took you long enough I almost thought you weren't going to show."
"Well I might as well talk to the man I'm going to owe drinks too when this goes over. Wouldn't do to run off into the Deep Roads with a stranger."
Varric chuckled in his usual manner before splaying out paper with plans and ideas for the expedition, but as she looked, she didn't see too many maps. Did they know where they were going and how to get there? Just as she was about to ask, Varric waved his hand over the papers and said "We need a good entrance to the Deep Roads."
"Do we have a bad entrance? "
"We need an entrance that keeps us away from the main darkspawn but hasn't been explored too much. I hear theres a grey warden in town."
"I would normally avoid Grey Wardens but ok fine. I'll get our maps from him."
Darktown. Why did it seem everything was in Darktown? It was the most depressing place she'd ever seen yet she always seemed to have business down here. Varric told her there was a woman in one of the stores that knew the warden. A mage. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. As a fellow mage he would probably be easy to get along with, but she also hadn't had the normal life of a mage. Her father had trained her and Bethany, not the Circle. She didn't know what was so bad about it that they'd had to shield her from it for year, but she assumed they just didn't want to lose her and Bethany. It seemed wrong to Sangria that they force children from their families so she'd never fought it. A grey warden who'd snuck in with some Fereldans. 'Guess the chaos of the Blight would make it easy to escape'
At first she had no idea where she was going. She decided to stop by Tomwise and see if he had any more poisons for her and look for the lantern lit from there, but on her way there she'd seen it. The one bright light in the darkness of the ragged depths of humanity. "God I sound like a romantic. Too bad I'm not confessing my love to someone any time soon, that'd be a good line."
Carver had followed Sangria at first, but when they neared the lantern he scoffed. "Another mage. You deal with him, I'll wait out here." She had been glad enough to have someone watching her back in this place, but she was also glad he wasn't going to bother her. He hated mages, and she was going to be playing nice with this one. She needed those maps. She looked to Carver who was leaning his back against the wall, his arms crossed as he glowered at the world and muttered under his breath. She sighed then opened the doors leading into the clinic…and was, surprised.
She knew that he was a healer mage, but to see it in action, that was a sight. Were Grey Warden's all about killing, taint, and darkspawn? How did this man have the time? Though she supposed if he was in Kirkwall he was probably trying to get away from something, just as much as she was.
She watched as his hands floated over his patient, and could see the mana he was expending to heal her. She didn't want to interrupt and have something go wrong so for the moment she just stood with the door partially ajar, watching. She wondered if he could teach her how to do that. But that was foolish. She was just here to get the maps for Varric and she him and Carver would go down to the deep roads. But Maker a healer would be useful. She knew a very basic healing spell that mostly just helped the mind focus on other things rather than actually healing a wound, and it sped up the process of healing just a little. She had always specialized in attack magic, calling on the elements to destroy rather than help. Bethany had been starting to heal. Bethany. Sangria sighed and mentally smacked herself. This was not the time for memories. They could keep her up when she got back to Gamlen's and tried to lay down and sleep, but she wouldn't let them distract her now.
When Anders stepped away from his patient and turned away it seemed the opportune time to enter. No one else appeared to be lining up for service so she walked up to him. Before she could announce herself he whirled around, looking about ready to attack her. Her eyes went wide as amber eyes bore into her own.
"I have made this place a Sanctum of Healing and Salvation! Why do you threaten it?"
Well that hadn't exactly been the reaction she was expecting. He'd nearly fallen over just a moment ago after saving a young boy from whatever it had been that ailed him, and now he looked ready to start a fight again.
Instead of being cowed, she was her usual sarcastic self. "Strange occupation for a Warden. Aren't you more about taint and death than healing and salvation?"
She wasn't about to lie, there was great power to this man. She was afraid. Obviously this man was used to being on the run from anyone and anything he didn't recognize as friend. Maker, he was rather charming though. What a time for her feminine side to rise up and declare this probably dangerous man gorgeous.
"Did the Wardens send you here to bring me back? I won't go. They made me get rid of my cat!"
He kept talking about the cat, Ser-Pounce-A-Lot apparently, but she was only half listening. Who left an organization just because of an animal? Then again if someone tried to take Bear from her she'd probably feel bereft herself. A mabari would hardly make her seem soft though. Apparently his cat fought darkspawn.
She waited until he stopped talking about the cat before deciding she might as well just get down to business. She had a feeling she'd asked him a few questions to learn more of the cat but her mind was focused now. "I'm planning an expedition into the Deep Roads actually. Anything you could share to help could save lives."
His already on guard face seemed to close off a little more. "I would die a happy man if I never had to go to the blighted deep roads again. You can't imagine what I've come through to get here." She had a feeling escaping from Lothering was probably at least an idea of what it took to escape the Wardens, but weren't they for life? Apparently she'd asked about that too, he explained that as a warden you sense the darkspawn and have a shortened life spawn but if you don't dress the part you don't have to go to the parties. Maker why could she only barely remember a conversation she was having right at this very moment? Other than flirting with Corff for free drinks, if you could even call that swill a drink, she hadn't actually found a man attractive in a while. Was too dangerous to get distracted, someone might realize what she was and one single rumor could have ruined her life as she knew it. Not that her life had ended up much better but she had begun to make a life for herself and her family here. Apparently she was getting too comfortable with it.
Considering she had barely noticed the conversation happening, when he mentioned a favor for a favor, she jumped on it as the opportunity she had been looking for. "If you help my expedition I'll do anything for you."
That seemed to startle the mage. She probably should ask about the favor more but she was itching to be done with this expedition business, make her money, and hurry up and jump in board for the expedition before it was too late.
"You don't want to know what it is I'm asking? What if it was Meredith's head on a stick?"
Sangria almost giggled at that. Seemed the guy could make jokes. At least, she hoped it was a joke. Much as she had been trained to dislike templars it didn't change the fact the last thing she needed was to spike a rebellion or slay a woman even the viscount himself left to do as she pleased. She was either that scary or that focused. Either way steering clear of her seemed like her best bet.
"Is that what you're asking?"
"I came to Kirkwall to aid a friend, a mage."
Yes yes, on with it. Sooner this task was over the closer she'd be to getting on this expedition. She was not looking forward to facing templars though, as that was apparently what she was about to do. A friend of his, a mage, had been dragged off to the Gallows, and Anders wanted her to break him out. Fighting templars was a bad, bad idea. But then again if she killed them it wasn't as if they could report a mage. Athenril had protected her the last year, none had gotten wind of her yet, but she wasn't looking forward to this. She was to meet him at the Chantry later and help him get his friend out past the templars. Lovely. And of course he had to mention hopefully they'd walk out free. Chains didn't go well with her skin color.
"Ah thugs. If only there were more of them! I would probably make 50 sovereigns in no time with people paying me for ridding the world of gangs."
Varric had already mentioned that she could make money killing gangs and making the streets safer, and even Aveline admitted she was rarely sent out to deal with the gangs but she'd make sure Hawke got thanked properly. Alas, killing them was so boring. They all died so quickly.
The whistle of Varric's bolts took out three of the gang members, just as Sangria pulled her staff from her back. First things first, to not die. The clink of rock forming around her blocked out sound of the fighting for a moment as her elemental armor wrapped around her body, protecting her tender breakable mage flesh, and around that sparks formed an arcane magic shield around her. She wasn't great at defense either but it at least made it harder for enemies to hurt her.
While Carver charged in for the one that seemed like the leader of this wave, she aimed her staff at five of the thugs that had grouped together, preparing a full on assault on Carver. However, before they could all attack, a bolt of lightning reigned down from the sky, flashing through one of them before hitting the ground and bouncing back up to take out the rest. The five men fell and the smell of burned flesh wafted through the air. "Mmm toasted thug. My favorite."
As those five faded, she felt the veil weaken around them to pull in the spirits. She knew she could take some of their life energy to feed her own, but she loathed to do it. She'd accidently discovered that particular talent when her father had sent her out to get them dinner and she accidently killed a little bird. Very slight life energy for such a small body, but she'd decided to pull it towards her as it headed for the Fade instead of letting it cross over, curious, and had felt some of the energy she'd lost chasing it return to her. In horror, she swore she'd never do it again unless she desperately needed the help.
Thus far none of the enemies had neared her but she could see several going after Carver. Maker, for all his bitterness he didn't have the sense to turn it into fury and fight. He just swung his sword around and relied on the force, tiring himself out far more than he should. She opened her palms in his direction and used the little healing she had to keep him going before turning to face the other gang members who'd dropped from the roves around them. She lept back, keeping her distance, swinging the palm she'd just used to cast the spell towards Carver in their direction before turning it to the sky. Angry red flames burst to life in her open hands, hungrily lapping at skin she wouldn't let them touch as they came to life. For a moment she strengthened them, feeling the drain on her mana from casting spells simultaneously, before pulling her hand back then pushing it towards the men getting a little closer than she liked.
She told the flames to devour them, and they exploded in their excitement, but with the men so close to her she felt the powerful heat from then as the force she'd created them with sent her skidding backwards. The men were gone but that spell had been a little too close to her for comfort. This wasn't the time to worry though. She whirled around, prepared to face more men, only to watch Carver at last take out the leader.
"About time little brother, I almost thought I would have to do all the fighting myself!"
As expected, Carver's eyes shot daggers in her direction. For all that he told everyone it was only her that had gotten them safely away from Lothering, he was certainly a proud young man. She loved needling him every chance she got. At the end of the day, she'd die protecting him, but she didn't have to like him to love him.
She looked over to Varric who was grinning and stroking Bianca in that eerie way of his. Like he was touching a human being. Tenderly. She'd asked him a couple times for the story behind Bianca but he kept deflecting it with humor rather than answer. So she just had to sit back and watch him near fondle his weapon before settling it back on his shoulders.
Thankfully, it had been Carver who'd taken out the leader and the body was salvageable. If she looked hard she could probably find a couple valuables on the charred men around, but she doubted it would be worth it. She walked over to the body and knelt, in this moment glad she wore pants rather than a robe, otherwise she'd have another stain to clean out of her robes later. She patted down the body, pulling a couple silvers and a bloodied note. For a moment she almost put it back, but instead she decided to read it. And was glad she had. Apparently this gang had a hideout near the docks where some meeting was supposed to happen. Wouldn't they be surprised when a mage burst through the doors and torched them all to get rewarded for taking out a volatile gang. She slid it into her pocket before straightening up.
"Well templars, here I come. Try not to hurt me too badly."
With that she started towards the Chantry where Anders was supposed to be waiting for them. She didn't bother looking back, Carver's muttering and Varric's heavy footsteps followed her as she made her way up the path. It had taken her a while to truly get her bearings here, but after a year she'd mostly managed. She found her way to the Chantry quickly, almost wishing she'd gotten Aveline to come with her, but Carver was warrior enough and with her spells backed up by Varric's bolts they could probably take on most templars. Hopefully Anders would be helping at least a little with the fighting. Better yet, there'd be no fighting and they'd get in and out quickly.
She was almost hoping the mage wouldn't show, that he'd decided this was suicidal and gone back to his clinic to give them the maps tomorrow. However those hopes were quickly dashed when he was leaning against the Chantry wall, looking up the stairs until he saw them approaching. 'What have I gotten myself into?' she thought, though her face outwardly shown nothing of the fear she felt making her stomach squirm. This could end so badly.
"I just saw Karl go in. No templars so far."
Sangria sighed. Seemed they might be in the clear. Somehow she doubted her luck would hold but for now she was grateful this may not be as bad as she was fearing. "I didn't see anything strange out here either. Let's do this fast."
"I'll handle the talking, you watch for templars." He had a nice voice, she wasn't too worried about hearing it rather than her own. She wasn't exactly sure what she was getting into, so probably for the best she let Anders handle it anyway. All she had to do was fight a few templars. No big deal, they only wanted to clap her in chains and drag her off so she never saw her family or the outside again.
As they entered the Chantry, alarm bells instantly went off in her head. Granted, it was late, but shouldn't there be at least a priest or two keeping their vigil late into the night, readying the door for repentant sinners who'd just commited some nameless horror and needed forgiveness lest it be too late for their souls? She never bought much into a benevolent spirit watching the world, far too much chaos in it for her to believe in him, but enough blinded themselves to the logic in search of blind desperate faith she had assumed someone would be here.
But only their footsteps sounded on the floor. Shouldn't this Karl be looking out for them? Anders had seen him walk in, so he must be here somewhere. They all scanned the hall before taking to the stairs. Finally, they saw the mages robes, the mage himself staring off into the wall.
When he spoke though, when he spoke she felt a chill. No inflection, no emotion. Anders must have known, but was in denile until his friend turned to face them, a fresh red mark emblazoned on his head.
Karl kept talking for a little while, but all she could do was think in horror 'Oh god, they made him tranquil. And here comes our good friends the templars now.'
The last thought occurred as metal armor scrapped against the floor and she heard armor clinking together. She turned to face what she guessed at first to be ten or so templars. In seconds her staff was in her hand, however it seemed something was going on in Anders head a well. And with his body. This time when she stared at him it had nothing to do with attraction.
Blue light poured out of his skin, blue lightning crackling in his once amber eyes, rifts in his skin opening to shine blue light. Then it was gone again and Anders fell into a crouch, but before she could try and figure out what was going on, the blue light returned and Anders looked pissed.
"You will never take another mage as you took him!"
That wasn't the voice she'd heard the man speaking in only seconds ago. Something weird was going on, but as Anders charged into battle, she put it in her mental folder of things to do when she wasn't at risk of death. Or tranquility. Somehow, the tranquility scared her more than death.
While bolts of blue mana flew from Ander's staff at the templars, Sangria's staff once more aimed towards the collection of templars. They were trained to resist magic, and their armor was warded, but warded or not it didn't change the fact that lightning and metal were far too close for any human's comfort. A bolt shot from her staff, shocking the templar who got closest to her, lightning flashing all around his armor before jumping to the next templars, the attraction to much for it to remain in once place. As the bolts faded, an array of arrows descended onto the somehow still standing templars. Normally their armor would have protected them, but with a full onslaught of Varric's crossbow bolts, it was impossible for ever weakness in the patched together armor to remain safe. One by one they fell. A fireball later and it seemed the battle was over. Seemed Carver had put his anger to use this time around, and with whatever was happening to Anders the templars didn't stand a chance.
However, she could feel…something from Anders. Though her attentions had been on the fight she could feel the light from Anders. It seemed as if…as if the Fade itself were present on his skin. Every time she dared fall asleep she was met with the Fade. This wasn't a demons whispering as she knew her experiences with the Fade to be, but there was…something powerful in Anders.
However, as the fight ended, it seemed to take Anders new Fade powers away as well.
As they turned to face Karl again, he looked as stunned as she was by what had just happened to his friend. A moment later he was voicing her own feelings. The Fade itself was somehow a part of Anders being. Apparently it was strong enough to make the mage feel it again as well. Tranquil were supposed to be completely disconnected from Fade, yet whatever was in Anders seemed to have fixed something in the man.
She decided now would be a good time to voice her own questions. Might as well ask now while it was completely unavoidable. "What exactly did you do? Not the Fade part, but the angry blue bits." Ok so the Fade part bothered her too, but she didn't really think she wanted to know it. Was she trying to work with an abomination here? But, he seemed so normal. Could abominations really be like that?
Seemed Karl decided to answer the question himself. "Its like a gateway to the Fade itself, glowing like a beacon."
Anders responded, and Sangria had to laugh, though she hid her face a moment to do so. Unique circumstances that made your skin glow and made tranquil mages feel their magic again. Ok so the laugh was a little on the hysterical side, but she sobered herself up fast.
She wanted to know more about what Anders had done, but Karl decided they needed Tranquil 101. Even her mental humor couldn't stop the horror she felt at him explaining exactly what her father had warned her of. Loss of colors, emotions, she wished she could tune him out but her imagination had decided she needed to hear this it seemed and refused to spark up on command.
"Please, kill me before it happens again! I don't know how you brought it back but its fading!"
She heard genuine horror and affection in Anders words when he begged Karl not to ask this of him. Seemed she would need to hold off on the advances her head and decided to plan on with him. There was more to this mage than friendship to Anders. She wondered if he'd tell her about it or not. People seemed to tell her their dark secrets all the time. While it had made her valuable to Athenril she didn't really like everyone telling her their woes. She wasn't sure if she particularly wanted to know.
"Perhaps, there is a cure?" She could see the heartbreak on Anders face at the thought of killing his friend, or if Sangria was correct, his lover. Maybe there was something else to be done? She'd hate to walk the world without feeling or color, but if this ever happened to Bethany, could she kill her own sister. She bit her lip hard at that thought. She didn't have to worry about Bethany, all because she hadn't reacted fast enough when that ogre had her and-
"Can you cure a beheading?" Ouch that stung. But it distracted her from memories better left for later at least. She definitely didn't want to have templars drag her into the Gallows. She had a rebellious streak a mile wide to compensate for her inner fears and weaknesses, she wouldn't last a year before…this…happened to her. Tranquil.
"I would rather die a mage then live as a templar puppet." Ok she could definitely feel him on that one. She looked at Anders. She couldn't let this man continue like this. When the tranquility set in again he wouldn't care any longer, but she couldn't let herself see this man walk around knowing she'd resigned him to this fate.
"Do as he asks. I wouldn't want to be tranquil either."
She watched Karl's face, forcing herself to watch what could have happened to Bethany, what could happen to her. His emotions fell away from his face before Anders took away his silent suffering. He hadn't been a mage in the end, but hopefully Karl would feel his magic again as the fade took away his dreaming, breathing, and living.
Anders allowed himself only a moment to look at his friends crumpled bleeding form before turning and heading off, nearly without her. "We should leave before more templars come."
Yes, leaving sounded good to her. She her gaze fall to the mage, and even without believing sent a silent prayer to the Maker to keep the man safe in the afterlife before turning and hurrying after Anders.
Maker the mage could power walk. For a mage Sangria was in far from bad shape, but the man moved like he was being chased by a lion and wanted to get away without drawing too much attention to himself. Maybe that's exactly what he was doing. Running away from what had just happened hoping he wouldn't have to pay attention to it if he just walked it off. That wouldn't be a sufficient solution but its probably what she would do. Seeing Karl crumbled to the floor…it had changed something in her. She didn't really know what yet, but she could feel that something big was coming and the things that happened would affect her. Maker she sounded like that Witch of the Wilds now. Speaking of which, she needed to go fulfil her bargain to the woman. Much as Sangria needed money, she hadn't pawned the medallion off. Partially she felt she was honor-bound to complete the task the witch had given her, partially she feared that a dragon would come after her if she didn't, and she didn't think it would be to train her how to become one.
When they finally reached the clinic Anders looked as if he wanted to keep running, so she did the only thing she could think to do. "Ok, talk Anders, I need to know what just happened back there." Did abominations usually break out into bright glowing blue rashes? She'd never seen one but somehow she doubted it. However she needed to know what this man was. He had powers she could use, and powers she'd like to learn, but if she couldn't trust him then hat wasn't going anywhere.
"I-this is hard to explain. Back in Amaranthine, I met a spirit of Justice…"
For a while, she just listened to him. The story seemed crazy even to her ears. Befriending a spirit that had once been a powerful resident of the Fade. She had never even thought there could be things other than the demons of pride and desire, of rage or simple shades. Maker desire gave her problems. There were so many things she wanted and Desire promised to give them all to her. But she resisted, mostly because she was stubborn and didn't want even the slightest chance of hurting her family If a demon inhabited her and granted her power. Plus, unless she had too, she and blood weren't friends. But good spirits? Maybe they were the bright lights she always saw in the corner of her eyes. But whenever she tried to find them, they were gone. Maker, was she a bad enough person even the spirits that embodied goodness stayed away from her?
But her problems weren't important right now. She wanted to understand this mage and what he had done. Not only had he befriended said spirit though, he had let it into his body, thinking he was doing a good thing. Then she heard what caused the fatigue, the sadness she had noticed in his eyes. She assumed it was because he'd left a life behind and hadn't thought about it past that. But his anger towards the injustice of mages had corrupted a good spirit, turned him to a skewed path of 'Justice' that had turned to Vengence.
Trying to put it in perspective, she started thinking of Aveline. It wasn't at all the same thing but how would she feel if she corrupted Aveline right out of the position she had worked so hard to get. Sangria wasn't exactly known for her morals, though that came with serving smugglers for a year, where as the law just about meant everything to Aveline. It didn't help much but she could sort of imagine the circumstances.
But Anders continued. Maker preserve her, she thought she had problems controlling her magic when her emotions got the best of her, but Anders had to keep his under rigid control. Things that had always bothered him now brought out Vengeance. He hadn't been able to do anything before, but now he could do too much.
Yep, she definitely had a trusting face or something. She hadn't expected his life story, though she supposed she wasn't getting a life story, just a part of his life now. His life story was probably a bit more cheerful. Maker she hoped so.
Before she knew it she was saying something she'd probably regret later. "So, that explains your whole sexy tortured look." God she had no grasp of serious. Ok, she did, but usually it came later. She bit her lip a little, wondering what he'd say to that. Had she just lost his trust?
Nope, apparently she hadn't. Maker she almost blushed. "Perhaps I should look in a looking glass more often." Was that, a hint of a smile? Some flash of hope in his eyes? Seemed her lack of thought might have paid off a bit.
And then the blush came. "I had never thought to find a woman who would look past what I just said." Ah she seemed to be great with first impressions at least. She got her face back under control after a moment and hoped he hadn't noticed. When he continued, she had a mental sigh of relief.
"My maps are yours, as am I should you have need of me."
Yes, two birds with one stone. She had been trying to figure out how to convince him to help her when he said how much he hated the Deep Roads and didn't want to go, but this saved her the lengthy speech she'd been preparing. If her words hadn't worked she'd been planning on boring him to complacency just to shut her up. But this was much better.
Well that was that. She had what she needed. Now, perhaps she could get Anders to teach her how to heal. She had already started out the door before turning back around as if she'd forgotten something and walking back over to him.
However, before she could ask, he apologized. "I ha d a friend like you once. Got me into all kinds of trouble. Didn't think I'd do that again."
She was about to ask who said friend was, but after what she had a feeling had gone on between Karl and Anders she wasn't sure if she actually wanted an answer. And besides, Anders decided to keep talking. Maker, she liked his voice. He had such a nice accent. Her own Fereldan had worn off a bit in her year spent here, but hearing someone from her hometown was refreshing. She did feel a pang of sadness at all that had been left behind. But she dediced she should probably pay attention to what he was saying, lest it was something important.
"I got a bit weighty on you. Sorry."
A sarcastic response was at the tip of her tongue, but he didn't need to know about the effect she seemed to have on people. He could figure it out for himself. Deciding she might as well just be a good friend, she smiled faintly at him. "You can tell me anything." She had a feeling she just might regret that later but she wasn't going to change her story now.
"Anything? Be careful what you offer. I…I just hope I didn't seem to selfish when I talked to you about Justice."
Selfish? How in Kirkwall did he sound selfish? He'd willingly given himself to a spirit just because he was a friend, and while he was living to regret it now, she didn't see how it could be selfish.
Oh Maker, had she really just said, "Well, he can't complain about his looks." What had gotten into her. This man had just killed his lover and she was talking about how good he looked. Sleep deprivation must be doing it to her, that was it. She hadn't been sleeping well since she'd been trying to figure out what she'd do once her contract with Athenril was up. That must be playing with her head. Well, he ended that thought process for her.
"No, don't go there. That isn't going to end well. I don't want to hurt you."
Oh no, now he was just asking for it. Her sense of humor wouldn't allow her to keep from making a quip about that comment. "Hurt me. I Might like it." 'I'm sorry, I know I'm not normally a believer, but with how my life's going, Maker preserve me. I think I need the help, even if it's just imaginary.' She'd been thinking of the Makers name in vain an awful lot. She might have to go to the Chantry and ask for forgiveness. Ya right, as if she'd actually walk willingly into that place. She had a feeling she might burst into flames or explode, or maybe the building would just burn down around her.
She honestly didn't hear a word he said after that. She couldn't believe she'd just said it. However, she noted the tone of voice. Rejection? Ouch. It had been a while since she'd been rejected by anyone she'd flirted with, however unwittingly she had ended up flirting with them.
"A year ago, we might have had something. But I'm not that man anymore. I'll break your heart. And that would kill me sure as any templar."
Well, she didn't know what to say to that. The guy barely knew her and already he was too terrified to try for something back, yet he would hate himself for hurting her. She wasn't all that innocent, she probably deserved a good heartbreak for all the hearts she'd left behind the few times she'd gotten out from under her parents eyes and decided to have some fun.
"Right, well, on that note, I should go tell Varric the good news. I'll probably come visit later once we've gone over the maps and gotten ourselves some odd jobs to make some money. 50 sovereigns. Maker that's a lot of money."
However, it seemed the mage was intent on brooding now, he simply nodded. 'Well this is awkward. Ah well that's what happens when I don't pay attention to the words I'm about to say.'
With that she left Darktown and headed back for Lowtown. It was still a bit early into the night surprisingly. Pub would probably be a little dead. Tonight seemed like a good night to get roaring drunk and set some idiots on fire. Carver would keep her from doing serious damage if she said she needed it, even if he wouldn't agree. "Drunk it is." She muttered before climbing onto the elevator that led to the upper world.
Anders:
"Maker preserve me." He felt his heart ache as his new friend left. She was…something. Much as he denied he had become an abomination, he could feel the anger, seething beneath the surface. The moment the thought of a templar crossed his mind it boiled. For now, for now he held Justice at bay, it seemed his anger hadn't completely corrupted his friend, but who knows what time would do to his control? He wore himself out day in a day out healing people, when would it drain him, when would it leave Justice to take over.
I wish to save the innocents, the guilty must pay for their crimes. Why do you fear me? I am doing what is right, which is just.
The difference between his own voice in his head and Justice's had gotten fainter and fainter over the past year, and it terrified Anders. But, it also fueled him. No longer would he stand by and watch innocent children, people, anyone showing even the slightest signs of magic be dragged away from their lives to live trapped in a cage. Some places, like Fereldan, it was a gilded cage, but regardless of the décor, it was a cage none-the-less. Why was he no longer a man because his weapon came from another realm rather than from a blacksmith? He was no blood mage, why was he to be feared? Did he deserve the Gallows for helping innocent people day in and day out for no charge?
Hawke. She was a mage too. Anders had to control his emotions lest Justice do something Anders lived to regret, but her, she had a chance to change the world. But Maker, he couldn't afford to be attracted to her right now.
She is a distraction. She can help us but emotions only blind you to Justice. What is right is important. What is just is all that matters.
On this he agreed with Justice. Not that he didn't agree with most of Justice's points of view, just the degree to which he thought change would come. The mages needed to be freed, the templars ended. He felt it, felt the anger, the need to do something coursing through him, felt the burn in his eyes and saw the light on his skin. Quickly he reined himself in. He feared he might already care for Hawke too much, she reminded him of what he used to be like. A memory of travelling with the Hero of Fereldan passed his mind. Happy memories. Some of the few he had.
Being free had been exhilarating, to the point he'd gotten excited to stop in Amaranthine to examine a tree. A tree of all things. Elissa had laughed. She loved Alistair, but she was a bit of a flirt. In his excitement his old sense of humor had flared up. "All I want is a pretty girl, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lightning at fools." Her laughter was infectious as she teased him mercilessly. "Pretty girl, right here!" He had fallen for her a little too, but other than jesting between the two of them he never tried anything. She talked about Alistair a lot, he knew she cared about him, he'd never try to get in the way of that.
"Andraste's knicker-weasels, why do I always fall for the worst possible people?"
Then there was Karl. Karl…No he couldn't face what had happened to Karl right now. Tomorrow, tomorrow he'd deal with it. Tonight, he needed to sleep. Fighting templars, Justice, and his own emotions was enough work for one day.
For a moment, just one moment as he lay down, he imagined life as a Tranquil. What would happen to Justice? With Anders cut off from the fade in that way, perhaps Justice could return to his old life in the Fade. Maybe-no. Karl had begged Anders to kill him to never feel the loss of his magic, his life, living. Anders mentally kicked himself for even contemplating it. Mages were not meant to be beheaded. They should be free to live normal lives, be normal people.
For a moment he just smiled 'and shoot lightning bolts at fools' before exhaustion from a day of healing and all that had happened tonight swept him away.
Well, her plans weren't working quite as planned tonight. She had indeed convinced Carver to let her drink, convinced him to keep an eye on her, but once they entered the Hanged Man, there was quite a commotion on the other end of the bar.
There seemed to have been some kind of argument. A man looked angrily at a deeply…tanned? Bronzed? Blackened? She wasn't sure what to call the woman's skin color. It was unique though. As was the fluidity and speed of her movements as she flipped a man away from her. In seconds she had a blade to the one who seemed to be the leader's throat. "Tell me man, is this worth dying for?"
With that, they scattered. Mentally Sangria made a note that this woman was intriguing. And attractive. Maker had she been a virgin so long someone was telling her she needed to lose It already? Now she was finding girls attractive. Though, the woman practically screamed sex. It was in the way she walked back towards the bar, the tight white leather hugging next to perfect curves. She wondered if those men had just been promptly rejected from a pleasant nights ride, or if there was more to the situation. She almost hoped it was the first one. Anders' outright rejection still kind of stung. He had mentioned a year ago maybe there could have been something. He was just scared of Justice. Or Vengeance. She didn't know what to call it. She figured she should just keep going with Justice to keep from getting Anders angry again. Angry wasn't the right word. Somehow she got an image of him all glowy telling someone "you wouldn't like me when im angry." It got her to giggle.
However, seemed her plans were changing. Now she wanted to get to know the woman who had just piqued her interest. She should probably go talk to Varric first, but the woman might have left by then. Though the way she was drinking didn't look like she'd be going anywhere soon. Poor Corff was desperately trying to keep up with how much alcohol she wanted while trying to keep that end of the bar tidy. Or at least as tidy as the Hanged Man ever got.
Well she wouldn't be the one making the introductions apparently. The woman quickly turned away from the bar before Sangria had even fully gotten into a comfortable talking distance. "You're new around her aren't you. Welcome, and keep your wits about you. You're nothing but tits and ass to the men in this place, and they wont hesitate to grab at both."
Didn't she know it. Problem with a flirtatious sense of humor was sometimes it went further than you wanted it to. A couple of shocks that the poor drunken fools hadn't been able to tell had come from her staff and they went off to look for other targets. Not that there were many here. Norah, one of the few waitresses here, and the occasional passerby were the only women who ever came in to this place.
"Speaking from experience I assume?"
Maker the woman had a nice laugh. It was light, but seemed cheerful, carefree. There wasn't much she wouldn't give up to not have to worry about anything anymore. Long as it didn't involve demons knocking on her mind or anything bad happening to her family. That wasn't how she wanted to lose her responsibilities.
"A few broken fingers here and there and they get the message."
And then, awkwardly enough, the woman half-bowed to her. Huh. Now that was a sight one didn't see every day. Though it gave her a nice view down the woman's, Isabella as she'd just introduced herself as, shirt. Again, she asked the Maker for forgiveness and hoped this was just a phase she'd outgrow. She was 20, maybe she was just having her mid-life crisis, and it involved wanting to not be a virgin anymore.
"Previously Captain Isabella, but it rings a bit hollow without a ship. You're from Fereldan aren't you? I was in Denerim not too long ago. Met the Hero, if you know what I mean. And the king." She waggled her eyebrows a little at Sangria, causing her to openly laugh. So that was why the woman wore sex like it was a second skin. She seemed to have quite a bit of experience.
"You know, you might be just what I'm looking for to solve a little problem I have."
"You too? Can't anyone fix their own lives around here?"
That got another lovely laugh from Isabella's pretty little mouth. "Must be something in the water." After a moment of laughing, she sobered up again. "Someone from my past has been pestering me. I've arranged for a duel. If I win he leaves me alone, but I don't trust him to play fair. I need someone to watch my back.
And here was her horribly flirtatious humor again. "I think I could manage watching your back."
That managed a soft laugh from the buxom woman. "I'll bet. I arranged to meet Hayder in Hightown tonight. I'll meet you there."
With that she walked off, either to go flirt with some poor unwitting victim or to the rooms Sangria assumed she had from her easy demeanor in the bar. Or both.
Well, a more successful flirtation with the previous pirate had sunnied her mood a little, and while she still stung a bit from Anders rejection, even if she knew he had good reason and why he did it now that she thought about it, She still wanted to get drunk but she could manage to put it off. Maybe she'd get Varric to buy her a few drinks before she met Isabella for their date with destiny.
Maker, she needed to stop with the jokes. She just knew they'd get her into trouble one day.
(More to come soon, tell me what you think thus far)