The shade goes down with an unholy screech as a well-aimed bolt goes through its misshapen eye socket. It crumbles into a pile of dust and rags, which blow away with a gust of cold air. Just above it, energy cracks and ripples as even more demons push their way through what one bald elven apostate has identified as a "fade rift"
Varric begins to prepare Bianca for another shot. He gingerly loads her, fingering her trigger eagerly. She reacts beautifully to his touch as he fells yet another demon. This one had been inching towards one of the soldiers fighting alongside him.
"Watch your flank, Golden Boy," Varric calls out to the man, saluting him when they meet eyes across the battlefield.
With a good natured grin, the soldier, one of Cullen's ex-templars, Cedric, waves his sword arm, all the while batting another demon away with his shield. "Nice shot, dwarf!"
The clearing is cast in an eerie green light, almost as though the entire area were thrust into the Fade. Varric, being a dwarf, has only once been to the Fade (not by choice), and would never go back there if he could help it. Though, with that giant breach in the sky, things are getting more and more fucked by the minute. Compared to this mess, Blondie blowing up the Kirkwall Chantry seems more like a harmless dalliance.
For a moment, the soldiers have some time to catch their breath as they strike down the last of this wave of demons, but the rift pulses with the promise of more. Varric eyes the clearing, quietly counting the soldiers. Most of them seem to be alive, although some are not quite so lucky. Shit.
Of the people still alive, he counts Captain Cedric, who is being fussed over by a tall, slender mage with hair like spun gold -his wife, Miriam, who had fervently refused to be left out of the battle. She's a powerful mage, too. It's probably the Amell genes -Varric would know.
Crouching by a wounded soldier, he spots the aforementioned elven apostate, a man going by the name Solas. Solas is a decent healer and another damn skilled mage, and no matter where he came from, Varric is just glad he's on their side.
"Stand ready, men!" Cedric calls out to his people. "Another wave of demons is breaking through!"
Varric strokes Bianca tenderly as he watches the rift expand and shoot out magical discharge. He winces as a bolt of magic narrowly misses his moneymaker, making the stubble on his chin bristle uncomfortably.
"Son of a bitch," he mumbles, leaping out of the way of the shade that has just materialized behind him. He watches as the creature stops in its tracks and implodes, scraps of it flying away like fireworks. The sight makes him gag slightly. He's killed his fair share of demons, but crossbow bolt to the face seems like a much more pleasant way to die.
He feels a well-manicured hand on his arm and allows himself to be pulled to his feet by Miriam. "Do be careful, darling." she says with an unassuming expression on her face.
"You're a terrifying woman, you know that?" Varric remarks appreciatively, dusting the snow off of his pants.
Miriam covers her lips in mock abashment and playfully replies, "Oh, Varric! You know I'm a married woman. You can't just say things like that!"
Varric chuckles and tells her, "Lady Amell, you know I only have eyes for Bianca." He lifts Bianca up and aims her again, dragging his fingers sensually along her body, making sure he caught every single beautiful curve. His fingers lovingly slip onto her trigger, watching her tighten and then release.
He notices that his raunchy display has caught Solas's eye and grins, causing the apostate to scrunch his nose in distaste, which Varric only finds more amusing. He watches the mage gracefully wave his staff in an arc and freeze an entire row of demons only to, with less grace, jab his staff behind him at a shade that attempts to sneak up on him.
Varric and the others continue striking down the demons and, like an open faucet, the rift keeps sending out more. It almost seems like a lost fight when they hear a familiar battle cry. A tank of a woman bursts into the clearing, destroying at least half a dozen demons all at once with one swift yet powerful swing of her blade. Cassandra is a force of nature, repelling demons like a whirlwind. She's causing such a stir that nearly nobody notices the lanky elf clumsily casting spells behind her.
Varric recognizes the elf as the one who had fallen out of a rift. It's hard not to recognize her with her plaited white hair that contrasts sharply with the rich brown tones of her skin -oh, and that glowing green mark on on her hand. The nearby rift seems to be making the girl's mark pulse in sync.
Areina favors ice spells, sending a chill through the already icy air as she fends off a group of shades and wisps which have grown attracted to the mysterious magic emanating from her mark. This strange shift in the demons' focus offers a sense of relief to the soldiers who are no longer being hit with their overpowering onslaught. However, it now falls to them to keep Areina alive, as she stumbles over her feet trying to keep up with the overbearing force. The lack of awareness gives the tired soldiers a great advantage as they begin to strike the demons down, carving their way through to Areina.
It's not hard to tell from her pained grimace and her shaking that the girl is terrified. She's like the eye of a storm with loose strands of her ivory hair whirling around her face like ice. The rift ripples above her tempestuously, and she watches the phenomenon with wide doe-like eyes.
"Quickly, before more come through!" Solas hollers, snatching her left wrist and pointing the mark at the rift. The mark reacts violently, connecting with the rift by a beam of crackling emerald light.
Varric settles beside Cedric and Miriam, and the three of them watch in awe as the mark on Areina's hand eats at the rift until it's nothing more but an echo of what it was. A blanket of relief falls over the clearing once it's gone.
"Maker's breath…" Cedric says breathlessly. Miriam links her arm with his, leaning slightly against him silently and watching thoughtfully.
Areina flinches away from Solas, rubbing her wrist and frowning slightly. "What did you do?" she asks.
"I did nothing," he remarks. "The credit is yours."
Instinctively, she looks down at her left palm, eyeing it warily. It has stopped pulsing, but still buzzed anxiously into her skin. "You mean…"
Ever eager to explain whatever the hell is going on, Solas says, "Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand." Areina watches him intently. "I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake -and it seems I was correct." Varric isn't sure if he misheard, but there seems to be a hint of vindication in Solas's tone.
At Varric's side, Cedric and Miriam take this as their cue to leave. Miriam squeezes Varric's shoulder and blows him a kiss as she and her husband go off in the direction of the forward camp.
"Meaning it could also close the Breach itself?" Cassandra questions.
"Possibly," Solas tells her and then turns to Areina. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation." Way to pile on the pressure; the girl already looks like she's ready to pass out.
"Good to know," Varric steps in, giving the girl one of his charming smiles. "Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." Areina glances down at him curiously. "Varric Tethras: Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong."
He catches the Seeker giving him a very unwelcoming look, which Areina completely doesn't notice. "Are you… with the Chantry or…?" It seems like she realizes her mistake halfway through her question.
Solas impulsively chuckles. "Was that a serious question?"
Varric's eyes soften at the clueless look on her face. "Technically I'm a prisoner, just like you."
Cassandra barrels in between them -y'know… as she does -with an irritated exp- You know, let's just agree that Cassandra always has irritated expressions on her face ranging from mildly uncomfortable to absolutely enraged, and let's just remember that little tidbit so we can avoid redundant statements like that in the future.
"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary."
"Yet, here I am. Lucky for you, considering current events." Varric tightens his gloves and looks knowingly at Areina. See what I gotta deal with, kiddo?
"It's really nice to meet you, Varric!" she says, eagerly giving him her hand to shake.
"You may reconsider that stance, in time," Solas quips dryly. He seems to share that charming quality with Broody.
Varric snorts in amusement. "Aww, I'm sure we'll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles."
In a very Cassandra-like manner, Cassandra, shockingly , objects. "Absolutely not!" she huffs. "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but-"
He decides to say this very calmly and rationally so as not to risk a boot to the head. "Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control. You need me." This statement only earns him a disgusted grunt, which is definitely better than being threatened with bodily harm, so he'll call that a victory.
Solas attempts to lighten the mood by introducing himself and hitting poor Areina with the most charming thing you can really tell a girl after she nearly gets killed by a swarm of demons: "I am pleased to see you still live."
"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'" Varric adds helpfully.
Areina shifts in place awkwardly, idly running her fingers over her scar. "Thank you for that, Solas." she replies sweetly.
"Thank me if we manage to close the Breach without killing you in the process." With all that boundless optimism, it's a wonder why he's still single.
At this point, Varric zones out a bit as Solas begins to talk more about the mark's power. Areina is a mage herself, but even she seems overwhelmed to say the least. He can't help but feel sorry for the kid. She clearly didn't ask for this, whether or not Cassandra believes her story.
"Well, Bianca's excited!" he pipes up, getting Areina's attention.
"Bianca?" she asks raising an eyebrow. "Do you mean your crossbow?"
Pleased to finally be talking about something other than magical marks, he raises Bianca with a flourish. "Isn't she a beauty? She and I have been through a lot together."
The two of them fall into step, letting Cassandra lead the way down the bank. They may have their differences, but Varric is glad he's got her sturdy form standing between him and all the demons.
"So, what's your story, Lavellan?" he asks her, tearing her attention away from her mark again. She keeps opening her palm, transfixed by it, almost as though the scar were speaking to her in voice that only she can hear.
"I'm Dalish," she replies absentmindedly, getting a loud snort out of Solas.
"Alright, sweetheart," Varric replies with a chuckle of his own. "Whereabouts are you from?"
"My clan is from the Free Marches," she tells him.
"So you're a long way from home, aren't you?"
She lets out a shuddering sigh. "Yeah. I just hope my sister is okay. She came here with me..."
He feels a twinge in his chest and groans. He's written enough tragedies to know this story doesn't have a happy ending.
"I take it you're the First of your clan," Solas remarks. "The Dalish don't often let their First go off on their own without protection."
Areina nods. "It sounds like you know a bit about the Dalish."
"I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion," he says dryly.
"Oh?" She perks up, her gaze curiously roaming towards Solas. "How have you crossed paths with us?"
"I mean that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no greater reason than their superstition." he replies sharply, shooting her down, because of course he would. There's a reason Varric calls him "Chuckles".
Varric rolls his eyes. "Can't you elves just play nice for once?" Areina remains quiet after the exchange, her shoulders stiffening and her arms wrapping around her body protectively. He decides not to probe her further after that.
The rest of their trek through the mountains has them encountering much more demons, and it's all they can do to keep Areina alive. Her footwork is incredibly clumsy and so is her casting. Her spells, when they hit their intended targets, are incredibly powerful, but her nerves are definitely getting the best of her.
She grunts loudly as she dodges a blow from a shade and swings her staff at its hooded head. It takes a few jabs to get the creature to die -as well as a strategically timed crossbow bolt from Varric.
She's panting heavily by the time the battlefield is empty enough for her to attempt closing the rift just outside of the forward camp. She doesn't need further prompting from Solas to raise her mark to the sky and close the rift. The pressure in the air eases as soon as the sky is clear again.
"We are clear for the moment. Well done." Solas says breathlessly.
Areina doesn't reply, tightly gripping her left wrist; the fingers of her left hand are quivering slightly. She isn't complaining, but she's clearly having a hard time keeping up with Varric, Cassandra, and Solas, all of whom are clearly more experienced fighters.
"You alright, kiddo?" Varric asks her quietly. "I won't tell Cassandra if you say 'No'"
She looks down at him through glazed violet eyes and he almost catches a smile on her face. "I'm just tired," she says in a reassuring tone, although he's not quite sure whether she's trying to reassure him or herself.
The four of them are allowed through the gates and enter the forward camp, located on what appears to be a wide bridge. Every part of the camp is crowded with crates of equipment, wounded soldiers and medics, and tents; it's hard to even walk through without stepping on someone else's feet. At the center of the camp, they see Leliana arguing with a Chantry cleric. The man clearly has no regard for his surroundings as his voice rings out clearly in the icy air, easily audible over the sounds of the idle chatter of the soldiers.
Varric eyes each corpse they pass, identifiable by the linen shrouds they're enveloped in. These people had families and friends -shit, he may have even had drinks with some of these people in Haven after the explosion at the conclave. He can tell the macabre sight hasn't escaped Areina's notice either. She's trying to hide it, but her face is painted with both vallaslin and utter horror. She has a rather expressive face, he notes (she would make a great protagonist for a novel). He gives her a pat on the back, drawing her attention away.
"Ah! Here they are!" The cleric's statement is accented by a gust of frosty wind.
Leliana looks up at the group. "You made it. Chancellor Roderick, this is–"
"I know who she is." Roderick interrupts her with an ugly scowl on his face, and a withered finger shaking in young Areina's direction. "As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution."
Cassandra straightens up and takes a few menacing steps towards him. "'Order me'? You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!" she snaps at him. Varric has to give the man props, though -he has Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast towering over him, showering him with her deadly aura and he doesn't even have the sense to flinch back a few steps. The man is either crazy brave or crazy stupid.
"And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!" he snaps back, causing Varric to flinch slightly.
"We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know." Leliana interjects, her cool blue eyes fixed on Roderick.
"Justinia is dead! We must elect her replacement, and obey her orders on the matter." Roderick insists.
"Are you serious ?" Areina's exasperated voice cuts in. "There is a hole in the sky and you don't even care?"
"You brought this on us in the first place!" he argues in his rumbling voice.
Varric sighs and rubs the back of his neck as Roderick continues to bark at Leliana, Cassandra, and Areina.
Areina hunches over, breathing shallowly and squeezing her left wrist in pain, and sure enough, when Varric looks up, the Breach has expanded. Solas doesn't have to say anything for Varric to know that this thing is still killing her. He can't say this enough but, poor kid…
"How do you think we should proceed?" Cassandra asks.
Suppressing a hiss of pain, Areina straightens up and glances around at a distant mountain. "I think we should use the mountain path. That Breach won't be closed unless we work together."
Cassandra doesn't give anyone time to argue, eager as she is to get going. "Leliana. Bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone."
Roderick, whose death wish is written plainly on the front of his sterling white Chantry robes in a large cursive script, glares at her back as she leads her party out of camp. "On your head be the consequences, Seeker."