/SPOILER ALERT! LEGACY-RELATED CONTENT ABOUND! READ AT YOUR DISCRETION!/
The Vimmark Mountains stung Clarissa everywhere, circling like wasps around her exposed flesh, prickling her with icy venom as she grimaced and winced. Flecks of pure white billowed around her as the howling winds blurred her vision and forced her to turn her head to avoid a particularly potent onslaught from the side.
As she did, however, she spotted Bethany close behind her, seemingly less affected by the cold. The only sign of her struggle was her staggering, stabbing her staff into the snow and trudging along in her borrowed mountain boots as the wind lashed against her face and sent her the meager black curls that crept out of her hood into a halo around her head. A pang of nostalgia hit Clarissa as she saw Bethany draw the aged Fereldan fur cloak tighter around herself, the familiar sight bringing memories of long-past winters back into clarity. A sudden blast of cold air brought her back, though, and she reluctantly returned her focus to the winding path that, hopefully, led downhill and into the chasms that were their destination.
According to Varric's "reliable" sources, the Kirkwall cell of the Carta were just tasked to instigate the incident at Anders' clinic. A much larger sect of the Dwarven syndicate, located deep within the Vimmark peaks, was behind the attack. Banging her armored fist on the table, Clarissa had announced her intention to "pay them a visit" and "have a good sit-down"
Right now, that moment of bravado seemed like a foolish idea to her.
"It shouldn't be far now." A less-than-cheery voice, sounding like it was spoken from miles away, reached Clarissa's ears. She could only barely make out the short, rotund figure leaving wide bootprints in front of her, and the unblemished brass ornaments that, with reflected light, formed a long rectangle on his back.
"How do you know? Every bend looks exactly the damned same!" Isabela shouted from behind Bethany, the howls muffling her words and the occasional curses that trailed after a stumble or a slip. Upon her words, it struck Clarissa as oddly amusing when she spied Isabela wearing more than two articles of clothing.
Alas, even the most fiery sensuality must bow before the sting of the Vimmarks.Clarissa thought, then smiled at herself before her thoughts turned to a more carnal nature which involved a specific person. The wind was doing strange things to her.
With a loud exclamation, Varric turned towards the group following him, a triumphant expression on his face. "You can snap out of your icy blue now, Rivaini." He chuckled, complete with shivering. "We're here."
As Varric sidestepped to give them a better view, Clarissa's eyes focused on a gigantic glacial lake, its untouched permafrost gleaming in the mountain sun. The unmarred surface was dotted with tall stalagmites poking out of the frozen lake, some of them joining together to form from small ridges to towering walls over ten feet high. From a high viewpoint such as Clarissa's, they melded into a peculiar landscape, a miniature set of ridges, valleys and crests, all covered in glistening white. A narrow path led from her position to the first of the stalagmites, a path that seemed almost too convenient to be true.
Then Clarissa saw the layout of the ice.
They fanned outwards, towards Clarissa, Bethany, Isabela, Varric, and any possible, and unwanted, intruders.
Clarissa's eyes narrowed in suspicion, her heart skipping a beat as she regarded the holes and gaps in the extrusive stalagmites in a new light. Suddenly, the jagged edges of the stalagmites looked a lot more menacing than they had only moments ago, as Clarissa could almost swear she saw the telltale slivers of arrowheads in stark contrast of the snow.
It can't be.
Then, abruptly, the wind stilled.
A speck of white shifted among the sea of its kin. The glint of silver steel flashed once, and was gone.
Oh for the love of the-
The first of the arrows whizzed over Clarissa's head as the wind returned with a vengeance, a tidal wave of snow, hail and razor-sharp bolts heading straight for her.
"Company!" Clarissa shouted as she deftly deflected an arrow with her bracer, kneeling as she did so. Wordlessly, her companions sprang into action, dodging the first of the well-aimed arrows.
Bethany cursed inwardly at her dulled senses as she conjured the image of a shield of unbreakable steel in her mind. Gathering her Mana, she willed the image into reality as a shimmering arc of flickering energy appeared at her fore, knocking bolts loosed at her off their course with pure magic. As the first of the bolts impacted the shield, however, she felt a jolt of unexpected shock run through her, sapping her strength at a phenomenal rate with the Lyrium runes etched on them. Her heart sank further still as she spied ever more Lyrium-imbued arrows flying towards her with all the fury of a full-blown hailstorm.
Gritting her teeth, she funneled more of her reserves into maintaining the arc as Varric retreated into the protective shield's safety, firing a strange-looking bolt from Bianca into the ground before them.
The bolt exploded on contact with a giant puff of smoke, creating a solid wall of pure white that blended with the snow on the ground. The roiling cloud seemed to faze the unseen attackers as the ranged assault dwindled, the amount of arrows counting down to nothing.
But then it picked up again, and this time, the archers didn't even pause to aim. Clarissa noted with alarm that the ripples on Bethany's shield increased exponentially, the expanding circles duplicating themselves like raindrops on canvas.
"I can't do anything from here!" Isabela shouted over the intermittent tangs that signaled the continuance of the onslaught, her daggers flailing about uselessly. Clarissa's mind snapped to life at that as she weighed their options.
"We have to move! Bethany! Can you hold the spell long enough for us to reach the bottom?" Clarissa focused her eyes on Bethany, who turned at the mention of her name. Her brown eyes were mired in confusion, exhaustion and overpowering fear. A sting of pain speared Clarissa through the heart as the raindrops kept at their creation of new ripples.
"I...I'm not sure..." Bethany murmured as a wave of fatigue crashed over her, making her shield waver dangerously and her focus stutter. Mana drained from her in staggering speeds, and she had only packed a few potions in favour of a lighter pack. Her eyes drifted shut as she struggled to hold the image of the shield, hershield, in place, every ripple on her shield dampening her senses further
Maker, grant-
Gra-
Bethany's breathing became labored. She became unable to summon the strength to even open her eyes, let alone reach for her potions. She funneled everything she had into maintaining the spell that was keeping her alive, yet killing her at the same time. Absolute darkness began to drape over her eyes.
Abruptly, something touched her shoulder, soft and firm.
You can do it, Bethany.
The voice rang through her, lucid and clear. She didn't even need to open her eyes to feel those violet-blue eyes gazing deep into her, warming her numb limbs and substituting raw power for Mana.
Yet, somehow, a dormant part of Bethany came alive at Clarissa's words, and it waited, anticipated, longed for the words that would follow, the words that would ignite the kindling flame she felt sparking deep within herself.
You can do it, Bethany. I-
Still, she waited, the wind, snow and arrows mere nuisances against her smoldering desire.
I believe in you.
Bethany's eyes snapped open at that, while her heart floundered like an arrow that had missed its mark. Was that it? She looked into Clarissa's eyes with disbelief. Clarissa's eyes were uncertain, unfocused, nothing like the resolute voice that had saved her from certain collapse as her eyes broke contact.
Frustration set into her mind then, kindling a much more different flame that blazed freely through her like wildfire spreading through a dry plain, filling every fiber of her being with raw, feral power that burned with fiery intensity.
Casting her mind to the wind, she pushed and drove until the drafts high above subsided to her sheer will. Then, with the very winds at her command, she redirected the howling blizzard and the storms of hail back down the narrow path, towards the snipers concealed behind the fragile icy pillars.
Clarissa could literally feel the magic radiating from her younger sister as the storm that had been their worst enemy suddenly became their ally. Patches of white squirmed for cover as solid ice pellets the size of Clarissa's fist assailed the lonely stalagmites with hurricane force, a storm of deadly and limitless ammunition called forth from the heavens. She watched in awe as stray bolts loosed by the fleeing assailants were disbelievingly turned backwards by the brute force of the wind at Bethany's command, some even hitting the scampering archers in the back.
Bethany took a step forward. Clarissa, Isabela and Varric followed her, step by step as they descended the path under the cover of the screeching storm.
A line of steel-clad dwarves appeared at the opposite end of the glacier lake, hefting battleaxes, swords and shields, marching towards Clarissa's party at a cohesive, collected pace. The fleeing archers regrouped behind the advancing line, and nocked their arrows once more. In stark contrast to the frosty white surrounding them, the blood-red seal of the Carta stood out comically, a line of floating red glyphs drifting above the billowing snow.
Letting her primal nature overwhelm her, Bethany lost control. Gloriously.
The skies darkened with frightening speed as stormclouds gathered overhead, slabs of solid black blotting out the sun itself. As they drifted closer, sparks of blinding white lanced across the narrowing patches of blue, pulling the darkness closer as Clarissa fixed her eyes on her sister, whose hands were raised towards the sky, eyes wide yet seeing nothing but the power rushing through her.
The first arrows reached within ten feet of Bethany, then were plucked away by bolts of pure energy moving at a pace Clarissa's eyes could not register fast enough. Every time a well-placed arrow neared the advancing group, the lightning struck precisely and concisely, burning them away as if they were naught but ash doomed to fall before the goddess herself.
Thick, hard strands of pure white lanced down from above, striking the ground advancing line of dwarven warriors, melting the snow instantly and leaving a dull black scorch marks in its wake. The dwarves faltered, grinding to a halt as pounding thunder echoed across the lake, as if heralding the lightning yet to come. Yet, as the thunderbolts continually struck the line of dwarves, Clarissa noticed that they never hit the dwarves entirely, instead only forcing them to stop before the imposing, yet ineffective attacks Bethany unleashed.
"Varric." A curt order, given in a low, dangerous voice Clarissa almost could not recognise. Laced with menace and purpose, the mechant prince what Bethany meant at once.
"Come on, Bianca, dear girl..." Clarissa heard Varric mutter as he lined up his beloved crossbow's brass sights on the confused group of dwarven warriors, his finger slowly curling around the trigger he crafted to a snug fit with his grip. A metallic ping and a whoosh of air followed shortly after, and Clarissa spotted a sleek, slim bolt leave Bianca's embrace, flying headfirst through the snow towards the line of glinting steel.
Bethany wasn't done, however. A particularly powerful bolt left the clouds at exactly the same time as the crossbow bolt left Bianca, striking it in mid-air in flawless motion.
The bolt exploded with flame as it made contact with the raw power given to it, lacing itself with iridescent red as its perfect accuracy embedded itself into the chest of the centermost dwarf in the line, his armor melted away a split second before the bolt itself reached his heart.
The dwarf toppled over promptly, as did several others as Varric's impeccable aim, combined with Bethany's overpowering magic made for a continuous and deadly assault against the rapidly deforming line.
"'Bela." Bethany intoned. Isabela laughed.
"Race you there." The words were left hanging in the wind like her forgotten cloak as Isabela vanished out of sight, reappearing beside a stone-faced dwarf who had been holding his shield high and blocking Varric's bolts. She ended the hapless dwarf's life with a quick jab of her dagger into the back of his head, while her other hand flicked subconsciously, launching her offhand dagger into the skull of a nearby archer. She quickly retrieved her weapon afterwards, then busied herself by engaging a dwarf brandishing a disproportional battleaxe. Chuckles and unrestrained laughter soon mingled with the rolling thunder.
Clarissa stayed beside her sister's statuary figure, partly out of shock and partly to guard against any unwanted influence. She had never seen Bethany's magic so potently at work before. Surely, the odd searing fireball that set unfortunate bandits ablaze and the occasional release of icy energy that could put even Rage incarnations on tilt were impressive. Even so, she had never seen Bethany like this before, with unbridled power running through her as if she was merely a conduit for it to be released into the world, like a goddess of her realm, fiery, godlike and utterly beautiful. Watching her practically thrumwith power, a thought suddenly bubbled up into her mind.
She doesn't need me to protect her anymore.
The voice made sense, and rightly so. All her life, Bethany had been living under her family's wing. Be it being tutored by her loving father, or being watchfully guarded by her omnipresent older sister, she had lived a relatively peaceful life that contradicted one of her position, of her blood. It was Clarissa's willing obligation to shield her, and she has gladly done it for naught on nineteen years.
She's grown so strong...
What did that mean for her? Would it mark the end of the companionship she and Bethany had treasured for so long? Clarissa was reluctant to go that far, but was it still her choice?
A sudden rush of air jolted Clarissa out of her reverie, making her cast her eyes towards the origin of the disturbance.
Isabela was sent flying as a blast of physical force hit her in her flank, landing on a hard patch of ice that sent a resounding crackechoing across the lake. "Damn it..." She groaned as her daggers fell from her grip and her side throbbed with pain, losing feeling as the ice pressed into her exposed flesh. Red swam across her vision as she stared at her assailant.
A figure garbed in ragged armor stood at the edge of a flattened stalagmite, hands spread wide apart and pulsing with dark magic. A trio of bolts headed straight for his head, only to stop before his face and shatter as an invisible force wrenched them from their forlorn destination. The profile labeled him distinctly human, which made sense as dwarves could not practice magic at all.
Clarissa looked at Bethany, at her now-flustered movements as her attacks made no effect on the rival mage. She turned to Clarissa, determination and anger replaced by anxiety and fear. "He's shielded himself. My magic can't even touch him." Her eyes flickered to Isabela, her distant body lolling limply as she struggled to recover. Bethany's eyes betrayed her thoughts to Clarissa.
I can't reach 'Bela without attracting the attention of the mage, who I can't fight on even ground.
Her eyes focused on Clarissa.
I need you, Clare.
She didn't need asking twice.
Clarissa bounded her way to the battered stalagmites with speed that rivaled Isabela, dodging bolts of turgid black loosed by the mage. A surge of magical energy filled her as she felt Bethany cast a spell on her. Her bracer flared brilliantly before fading to its original color, only now skitters of electricity ran along the polished steel, signaling the magic that now resided within it.
Clarissa charged, leaving the protective cover of the ice formations and heading straight for the mage. A blast of magic met her advance head-on, only to be blocked fully by her bracer, which she held high. The rival magic clashed before Clarissa's very eyes, but it was not enough to deter her. With Bethany by her side, she was complete, perfect, and utterly invincible.
His staff-blade was of little consequence as she sidestepped a wayward swing from the hopelessly doomed mage, who had allowed her to close the distance between them, the distance that would have saved him, at least for a few more minutes.
Prancing forward, Clarissa drove down with her blade, feeling the sharp edge pass seamlessly through rough flesh. Riding her momentum, she left the decapitated arm, attached to the mage's staff, where it lay in the snow while she allowed herself a small smile as the mage howled in pain.
Her head was level with his as her sword sheathed itself in the mage's chest, the cloth armor doing nothing to stop the glistening steel passing through his heart. His mouth making strange gurgles as blood filled the cavity. Faintly, Clarissa was aware of Bethany rushing to Isabela, who was practically groveling as her legs apparently lost their feeling. She heard the familiar wet squelch as her blade left another victim spent and dying as she pulled it out of the warm and slightly odorous body.
Just another day in the adventures of Clarissa Hawke, and her merry band of misfits.She mused as she flexed the blade in her hands, flinging blood onto the ice.
Then she heard it.
The faint sizzling of melting ice stood out as clear as the sun now shining above her again. Casting her eyes downwards, she saw the dark, bubbling crimson spreading underneath the prone corpse of the dead mage, the light striking the growing puddle making it look decidedly black.
Black blood... Sizzling blood...
The brown, smudgy, patched cloth armor the dead mage wore sent shock careening through Clarissa's body, launching her mind into frenzied activity of fear, doubt and utter disbelief.
Varric Tethras appeared next to her, the relieved smile on his face disappearing quickly as he noticed the attention Clarissa was doting on the spent corpse. "It's a dead mage, Hawke. It's right next to rats in Lowtown." He chuckled as he said it, unaware.
"It's more than that." She replied. She was sure of it, not even needing to flip the body over to reveal its face. "Bethany." She called, her voice too filled with shock to carry through the howling wind that surrounded her. Even so, Bethany noticed the commotion, and walked up to Clarissa with Isabela's arm over her shoulder.
"No... This can't be," were her only words when she recognized the sizzling black blood, the brown cloth armor, and the bald, deformed skull the dead mage possessed.
Clarissa kicked the corpse onto its back, revealing a snarling, lifeless face with depthless black eyes that were filled by nothing other than its tainted blood. The blood of my enemy. She thought bitterly as Varric cursed loudly in the lamenting wind.
Lying before them was none other than a Hurlock emmisary.
A Darkspawn.
/Hey there!
I know is has been quite some time comparing to my posting schedule (Yes I do have one). Blame MW3 and BF3 and DAO Ultimate finally joining me. Anyways, Here's more fight scenes to you. I think I've managed them quite well, but critique is appreciated! That ending there... It's a shame the Legacy trailer had Darkspawn in it, it could have been so much more... EPIC.
At any rate, I shan't keep you. Remember to R&R and keep reading!/