Chapter 11: Bait and Switch
"And so…the Champion gained the service of a blood mage."
"Yeah," Varric said, trying really hard not to sound defensive. The Seeker's interruptions and accusations were really starting to get to him.
Keep calm, he told himself, you knew going in that she was going to be a hostile audience.
He did what he always did at such times; he brushed it off, kept his expression bland for a moment, and then smiled.
"Hawke reached out to her smuggler contacts, they had…a little bit of pull in the Alienage, got Daisy a room there, it wasn't much, but at least she would be around her own kind."
Cassandra's eyes narrowed.
"And what of the other mages of Kirkwall? Was the Champion trying to gain their attention at that time?"
"No," Varric said flatly, "If anything, Hawke was trying to avoid the attention of other mages. She recognized the fact that the moment she became known to the mages of Kirkwall, it would only be a matter of time until the Templars found out."
The dwarf shook his head.
"It wasn't like she was standing outside the Gallows waving a sign that she was an apostate looking for allies. Besides, things were only starting to go bad in the Gallows, or that is how it looked to us on the outside. Hawke was not about to risk her, or her sister's, necks by snooping around in Templar business.
"No. Back then, Hawke's only concern was getting her family out of Lowtown, which meant that she needed to help get our deep roads venture off the ground, which, thanks to my dear brother, Bartrand, almost failed before we even got a chance to leave the city."
Varric pursed his lips at the memory.
"A day or two after we had come back from Sundermount, I learned that the guy who sold Bartrand the location of the entrance to the deep roads we were going to use, had fled the city. He had come highly recommended, but Bartrand had not done his homework, as usual, and did not know that the man had racked up a lot of gambling debts with the Carta. He had been selling false maps for months, not to pay off his debt, but to get just enough coin together to make a quick exit. Which he did before the Carta could get their hands on him."
The dwarf sighed heavily.
"As you can guess, our main investors did not like that, as soon as the news broke, the guy we had set up to sell the goods for us bailed out, leaving us with no entrance, and no way to move the goods even if we made it down and back. Bartrand threw a fit of course, screaming at anyone who had the bad fortune to be near him. I, having heard about this advance, stayed away from our family estate in the merchant's guild, not that I needed much incentive to stay away mind you. I preferred my place in the Hanged Man; it was a good working environment."
The Seeker gave him an arched look.
"What did the Champion do then?"
"What could we do?" Varric shrugged, "We still needed to get the venture off the ground. I put my contacts to work on finding us a guy who could help us find another entrance into the deep roads, while Hawke hit up her contacts to try to find a new person to buy our treasures. The smugglers had a few high end contacts, so I was hopeful that we might find someone who would do what we need, and not ask too high a price for their services."
Varric sighed at the memory.
It had been a scramble, he remembered that, everything that Bartrand had been working for had seemed to have gone tits up, and now he and Hawke had to swoop in and try to save it. While at the same time still try to earn enough coin to cover Hawke's side of the investment. Both had been slow going, and time was of the essence. They figured the bulk of the darkspawn were still clustered around the deep roads under Ferelden, but that would not last, they had needed to get going, and soon.
"Hawke did what she could," Varric continued, "Since she had reached out to her old smuggler contacts to help Merrill, she figured she would reach out again, see if the smugglers had any work they needed doing, something they might not want to be linked to."
"Criminal work," Cassandra said crossing her arms over her chest.
"High paying work," Varric reminded her, "with time running out, we could not afford to be choosey."
He leaned back in his chair, again, it groaned slightly as he tried to get comfortable.
"Hawke's contacts brought us a name, a dwarf named Anso; he had lost some goods and needed Hawke to recover them. We waited until dark, and headed out, Anso had pointed us to a hovel within the alienage. It was there that the smugglers he had been dealing with were waiting."
"The Champion was successful in this endeavor?" the Seeker asked.
Varric smirked at her.
"Not exactly."
IOI
"It's empty!"
Varric lowered Bianca, and joined Hawke by the chest. On the floor around them, many of the smugglers lay dead, but if these were common smugglers Varric was an elven-born noble. The men had been too well armed to be smugglers, their armor was of fine make, their blades too, and if he was not wrong, he recognized the scent of soldier's bane in the air. A pricey type of poison, not the kind that a common smuggler would use, its main use was to knock someone out, make them easier to transport. That, along with the fact that the "Smugglers" had been set for an ambush when Hawke blasted their way in, hinted at the fact that someone might be trying to capture someone else.
But who? Anso? Varric did not think so, if someone was trying to send a message to the dwarf, they could have hired cheaper thugs, why all the high-end help?
It did not make sense.
He looked down into the chest; Hawke was right, it was as empty as a pauper's pockets.
The dwarf cursed under his breath.
Waste of bloody time!
Aveline and Bethany stood behind them. Isabela had been sleeping off a hangover when they had left, and Merrill has stayed behind to attend to her. Aveline had not been very pleased to be a part of this job. She feared that someone in the guard would take notice of what she was doing in her off-duty hours, and bring it to Captain Jeven's attention. The man was apparently still angry with her for the ambush on the road business.
Aveline had no desire to be drummed out of the guard for illegal activities.
"So much for returning stolen goods," the warrior said grimly.
"Stolen, stolen goods," Bethany reminded her with an amused smile.
Aveline glared at the younger Hawke who fell silent.
Moira shook her head.
"Guess we go back to Anso and tell him that his property has been lost."
Varric shook his head. He could see the frustration on Hawke's face. It seemed that Bartrand's expedition would never get off the ground at this rate. It was as if they were running as fast as they could, but could find no traction, that they were simply skidding around on an icy road.
The dwarf smiled.
"Let's go back to Hanged Man, Hawke," he advised, "We will have a drink or two, and then go speak with Anso. No point in getting yelled at totally sober."
Moira sighed.
"Might as well," she said, "nothing for us here."
Hawke led them out of the hovel. Varric was already composing what he was going to say to Anso in his head. The man had seemed a little too jittery for this type of business; with luck he would take the loss, and not make a big stink about it. They…
The group froze.
The Alienage had been very quiet when they had entered, almost too quiet, like the elves living here had been scared of something.
Now…they knew why.
At least twenty heavily armed soldiers ringed the house. Though unmarked, their armor had the same cut and quality of the "smugglers" that they had just slain inside the house. Behind them, stood a mage in expensive foreign looking robes, fur trimmed, with shiny piping, lyrium maybe, or silver.
Hawke glanced around.
"Your friends are in there," Hawke said dryly, though a nervous laugh did escape her throat, "They might need your help."
The leader of the group, at least Varric assumed it was the leader, a woman with dark red hair glared at them.
"That is not the elf," she growled, "Who are you?"
"It doesn't matter," the mage in the back called out, "We were told to kill whoever entered the house."
Hawke had heard enough.
She gestured with her hand behind her back. had been since they had first seen they were surrounded.
Fire fell from the sky.
The soldiers, whoever they were scattered, the few unfortunates that had been caught up in Hawke's attack screamed and rolled around on the ground, trying to douse the flames.
Bethany raised her magical shield; it slid in front of her and Varric. Aveline lunged forward, with Moira at her side. It was a tactic the two women had used during their escape from the Blight apparently. Aveline played battleship to Hawke's support, spells and staff strikes kept Aveline's back clear while the guardswoman dealt with the bulk of the heavily armored enemies.
A stone the size of a person's head flew at Hawke. Bethany's staff spat lightning, shattering the projectile; before the enemy mage could recover she sent waves of fire and ice at their attacker.
Her strikes forced him to back pedal, to try and shield himself. It opened up things for Moira and Aveline.
Varric chuckled to himself.
Having one mage was useful, having two…that was great.
"Keep those shields up, Sunshine," Varric said taking careful aim with Bianca, "I got this."
"Hurry," Bethany said through gritted teeth, her brow was furrowed. She was sweating from exertion. She was stopping the enemy arrows, but it was taking a bit out of her.
Varric decided to lighten her burden. He sighted in on the enemy mage, the man was trading spells with Moira, his shield was holding, but it was starting to flicker.
Wait for it, Varric thought.
Wait.
Wait.
The man's shield dropped.
Varric grinned.
"Bianca, baby, introduce yourself."
He pulled the trigger.
A bolt from the crossbow caught the mage in the throat. He staggered, back, yanking it out, shortening his already brief time of life to about ten seconds, blood gushed from the wound.
The mage fell with barely a hiss.
No longer having to defend herself against the mage, Bethany switched to some offensive spells of her own. Lightning and fire joined her sister's attacks.
Aveline cut down the woman in charge, after that it was pretty much over.
The last two attackers tried to flee, Varric fired Bianca.
They fell to the cobbles of the Alienage.
After that…there was silence.
Varric lowered his weapon. He was still trying to figure out what was going on.
They had said they had been waiting for an elf, and ordered to kill any who entered the house?
Which elf, and why?
Moira sighed as she looked around at the carnage.
"Anso owes us a few answers," she said grimly.
"I agree," Aveline said, "Let's go have a…conversation with him."
Hawke nodded.
She did not think the dwarf would enjoy this…conversation.
They started to leave only to find their path blocked once again, this time by a man in armor similar to the others, but wearing a cloak, a leader…apparently.
Moira glared at him.
"How many of you guys are there?"
The leader sneered.
"I do not know who you are girl, but you have made a big mistake!"
"LIEUTENANT!" he shouted, "I want everyone in the square! NOW!"
Hawke lowered her staff into firing position, waiting the next attack.
It did not come.
A lone warrior staggered out of the shadows, blood leaking from underneath his helmet.
"Cap…Captain," he managed to gasp, and then fell forward, dead.
The leader of the attackers whirled.
A lone figure stepped out of the darkness. Varric blinked not sure what to make of it.
It was an elf, he supposed, but unlike any elf he had seen here in Kirkwall. The elf had broad shoulders, for one of his kind anyway. Black and gray armor covered him from heel to throat; his silver hair almost covered two intense green eyes that now bore into the leader of the attackers. The elf also had a great sword strapped to his back, but made no move to draw it.
He looked coldly at the captain of the soldiers.
"Your men are dead," the elf said coldly, "Your trap has failed; I suggest crawling back to your master, while you still can."
The elf tried to walk past the man, not even deeming him worthy to be looked at in the eye.
The Captain did not like that.
He grabbed the elf by the arm.
"You are going nowhere, SLAVE," he spat, "You are…"
The elf whirled around.
Varric would ask Hawke about what happened next later, she knew more about magic than he ever would, but even she could not truly explain what came next.
The elf's arms glowed, or rather the strange silver-colored tattoos on his arms glowed, he shoved the man's hand away, and then with his right hand…reached into the man's chest. The hand passed through the armor and flesh like it was air, the Captain's eyes widened in horror.
The elf was not done.
He closed his hand, or at least that was what Varric suspected that he had done, there was…a strange sound, like something hard being crushed.
The captain convulsed, blood sprayed from his mouth.
The elf drew back his hand, his arms ceased to glow, his hand became normal again.
The captain fell to the ground dead, his eyes reflecting a horror that few could imagine.
The elf shook his hand, as if trying to clean something unpleasant off of it. Varric saw no blood, but still…still…
Maker, he thought.
Weird shit gets weirder!
The elf snorted as he looked down at the dead man, only now deeming him worthy of his attention.
"I am no slave." He growled.
Hawke stood there, she was speechless.
Varric did not blame her.
The one they would come to know as Fenris; had that effect on people.
