Chapter 12: Someone In Need

A/N: Hey everyone sorry for being late but finals are just freaking me out. It'll probably be until next month I can release the next chapter.

In other news, the poll has closed and now officially the War for Thedas has begun. And now begins Marcus' adventure.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series or the Dragon Age Series.

Elder Scrolls belongs to Bethesda and Dragon Age belongs to Bioware


Hot. The sun gleamed along the arid grasslands, nothing but scorpions and the occasional spider to walk the paths. Marcus was still dumbfounded how going north somehow makes it hotter, it made no sense. Luckily he'd cast heat resistance or otherwise he'd be drowning in his own sweat and musk. How Redguards could get used to this, he'll never know.

For two weeks, Marcus has walked miles to the Imperium, hoping to find any leads of magical artifacts and lore for Neloth. Yet for all he could see, miles of barren land with the occasional wild animal or bandit. At first, Marcus visited the Hundred Pillars, massive structures made from some material that's similar to mortar, and most of the tombs and ancient sites were lastly looted already. Even any ancient had etched away, not even his magic could help restore some of it. And so here he is, on his way to Perivantium, hoping to get any local information about any sites and circles around Tevinter.

It's a good thing that most of the country's focus is on the invading Qunari, that way Marcus's inquiries won't make as much noise to any nobles as they usually would. He couldn't also but feel joy at the prospect of the two destroying each other. Two nations that enslave people of both the mind and soul respectively. They deserve what's coming to them and the Empire will make sure of it. Marcus's stomach growled loudly for him to hear, tiny ripples moved like a wave within him.

Hmm, I should get to Perivantium soon, he thought. He looked within his bag, most of his provisions eaten save for a cracker. Thankfully he had plenty of water.

Damn, I shouldn't have eaten that big lunch yesterday. But I'm so used to everyone bringing me food that I've never had to worry before.

"I see that you're still as dumb as when we first met."

Marcus quickly turned to behind, his eyes now staring upon a golden saint, her long golden hair flowed along her shoulders and small golden armor pieces that made her halfway between from being nude.

"Selene," Marcus exclaimed, "what are you doing here? I didn't summon you."

"Yes, you did. You conjured me up when you were sleeping an hour ago. I would have woken you but a man like yourself would never be able to fix his wet dreams."

Marcus blushed hard before pointing out to her, "Hey, it was not! It's a condition I have okay. I sometimes sleep cast. You wouldn't understand."

"Like how I understand you've been wasting time walking when you can summon a horse to ride."

Marcus widened at her revelation, his head hanged lowed at she said. Now he wouldn't hear the end of it. Unless…

"That's where you're wrong. I didn't forget, I was just trying to be careful around the locals. They'd swarm me if they saw me riding a flaming horse."

"You made that up didn't you," Selene responded with her hands at rest, "nothing less than I'd expect from a lowly man such as yourself. Like the time you got turned to cheese despite the fact, the item belonged to my lord Sheogorath. You know if I was in charge we'd have completed our…"

"Okay, bye Selene." Marcus cast Expel Daedra on her.

"This isn't ov-" Selene raised her fist as the spell whisked her away back to Oblivion.

Marcus then noticed something strange after he cast that spell. His magicka wasn't regenerating for some reason as it usually would.

Strange, he thought, that's not what happened with all my other spells.

Marcus needed to try something. He shot a fireball of into the sky and his magicka began to return but only back to the point where it was. He quickly searched into his bag for a minor magicka potion. He drank its contents and soon enough he felt his magicka pool return to the maximum.

Most peculiar, so it seems Conjuration spells in Thedas somehow decrease the amount of magicka you have available. But then again, my magicka was full when I woke up after summoning Selene so most likely it just takes a while for it to regenerate. Could it have something to do with this Fade I read so much about?

The Fade. Supposedly the source of all magic in Thedas separated from this world by the Veil. More than likely the Fade was Aetherius or at least some plane like it, and the Veil is preventing many people from gaining magic save for a select few. It was sad really, for a world to be unable to experience the true beauty of magic and instead become a tool for an elite few and a demagogue for the masses. Magic is a tool, a tool that for a century has helped the Empire prosper and allowed many new ways it improves society. That bullcrap about only a chosen few is why nobody likes the Psjiics and probably a reason people are so distrustful of magic.

Marcus placed his hand over his head, a glimpse of the city he could barely see in the distance. An hour or two tops then he'll head for the nearest inn. Maybe a tavern for any sort of information. Then something interesting might happen.

"Aaaaahh!" The loud scream caught Marcus off guard. He grabbed his staff from behind and ran off towards the scream.

"Finally, something interesting."

Far off in the field, a small elven boy ran as fast as he could. His chest panting, his body crumpling as he tried exerting as much energy as he could. Yet it all ended as an arrow pierced his leg, stumbling down onto the ground. He tried to get up but his leg bleeding and broken with the arrow struck through, all he could manage was a slow crawl as the galloping horses came closer to him. A horse trampled over his hand, pain radiating throughout as he screamed from the top of his lungs. A shadow darkened his view as a large man loomed over his body.

"Well now, where do you think you're running off to slave? Hoping to die out in a ditch like the rest of your clan. Oh, my apologies former clan." 2 more men surrounded the elf as he laid there, blood scattered all over his body.

The elf gritted his teeth, "Sc-screw you, shem. I'll never stop running." The group of men chuckled at his statement before the leader kicked him in the face, knocking the boy unconscious.

"See, that's where you're wrong, slave," he said kneeling down, "our client needs more bodies for his ritual and promised us extra for bringing you alive. Maybe I'll buy a slave too, slave-hunting is some tiring work. Load him up."

A bolt of lightning pierced through the air, striking one of the henchmen. The rest looked in horror as sparks spread over his body, leaving a hunk burnt flesh before disintegrating to ashes.

"Mage!" one of them yelled as Marcus jumped from behind a rock.

"Well don't just stand there, get him!" The leader yelled as he ran for his horse.

The men proceeded with their weapons, one shield in hand while the other circled around with a bow. Marcus cast a fireball with his staff towards the armored man, his fire bouncing off as he charged with his shield. The man swung his sword, barely missing Marcus. Marcus dodged multiple times until the man swung his shield back, prompting Marcus to quickly thrust his staff blade into his shoulder, bloody flesh was torn that the man reeled back in pain. An arrow shot towards Marus neck but bounced off, causing confusion to the archer.

Ironflesh, Marcus thought, good thing I cast it before the fight.

Marcus launched a barrage of fireballs at the archer and he nimbly dodged the fire. The armored man regained his footing to charge towards Marcus, who proceeded to launch a fireball into the air. The man was distracted from the attack as Marcus spun his staff towards his chest, electrocuting the man to a singe. The archer tried launching another arrow before suddenly he was hit by a storm of fire raining down on him. The archer ran screaming as the flames burned his body as he collapsed in agony. Marcus released the staff from the armored man as he stood there lifeless with warped armor. Marcus gave him a light tap and watched the man fall before turning towards the leader. The leader was holding the unconscious elf with a knife to his throat as he slowly backed towards his horse.

"You made a big mistake, mage. You should've killed us all with your fire but you had to try to be a hero. So here's what is going to happen. I'll be taking this slave back for pay and you can have whatever is left on those guys. I'll have a feeling you'll need supplies if you want to survive out here."

Marcus slowly stepped towards the man and charged his staff.

"Hey, don't move any closer! I'm warning you, one more step and I'll slit its throat."

"Then I won't move." Marcus spread open his hand and a ward appeared between the man and the elf. The man bounced off the ward and looked up to his horror as Marcus pointed his staff at the man. Several ice spikes impaled through the man, launching him forward as he landed and blood pooled from the newly fresh holes.

Marcus ran over to the boy, his leg mangled from an arrow, multiple lacerations, and bruises all over. He quickly cast Heal Other on the boy as the gashes and bruises disappeared and his leg set back into place. The arrow would be tough to remove but luckily the boy was still unconscious. He broke the arrow shaft and quickly removed the broadhead while casting healing to stop any blood loss. The leg was still inflamed a bit but that's the best he can do for now. Now was the question of what to do with him.

I can't take him back to the city, Marcus thought, they'll know he's a slave and I won't try to pretend he is one to me. I can't stay here with him though, more slavers might come and I don't have enough supplies to make camp out here.

He turned his head over to a small arch in the distance, large enough shade and low enough into the ground that it would be hard to spot anyone from far. Marcus grabbed hold of the boy and carried him over to the cliff.

After he laid him in the shade, Marcus conjured two flame atronachs by his side.

"Alright, you two guard that boy here. Attack anyone with a weapon in hand." The atronachs floated off to the sides of the arch and occasionally turned to watch the boy.

Marcus ran off to the city and as luck would have it, one of the horses the slavers rode on was still here. Now he just hoped the boy wouldn't wake up to the atronachs.

As Marcus rode back, cold winds chilled his face and his pack clicked on the horse. The boy still was unconscious thankfully. Marcus banished the two atronachs and proceeded to set up camp. He laid out a blanket and pillow for the boy and rested against a rock. At a snap of his fingers, a small fire came to life from kindling he bought. A large sigh came about as he used Telekinesis to lift a chicken thigh over the fire. Hopefully, the boy would wake up soon.

How could any person think slavery is a good idea? All the lives ruined, culture destroyed, and families separated. They don't deserve any mercy, not from me or Stendarr.

Marcus stared at the night sky, chicken in hand, so focused on the landscape that he jumped a bit when the boy quickly jumped from his rest.

The boy was confused for a moment as he stared at the man, he too unsure what to do. The boy glanced to the right and saw a staff. He jumped over the fire, grabbing the staff and pointing it over to the man.

"You're not taking me back shem!" the boy's grip tightened on the staff and slowly walked back.

Marcus raised his hands as he swallowed his meal. "Okay, now there's no need to resort to violence. I'm not here to enslave you."

"Liar, you want to take me back to that magister. Well, I'd rather die than go back to him."

"Look, honest I'm here to help. I even healed your wounds for you see."

The boy looked down to his leg, not a scratch in sight and it even looked brand new.

"You'd probably just want me healed so I can work for you more."

"And treating you to a nice fire and a meal is part of my plan?"

"What about this staff? You're a magister aren't you or some blood mage?"

"No, not any of those. In fact, I despise those. Let's just say I'm not from around here just like you are I suppose."

"How do you know that?"

"The vallaslin," Marcus pointed to his face, "it's a Dalish thing isn't? And judging from your age, I assume you must have gotten it recently."

The boy lightened his grip on the staff. "Not many shem would know that. Most are too ignorant and believe us, bandits or lowly creatures."

"Believe me, I've dealt with a fair share of ignorant people. But often I find a little chat can help us understand as long both sides agree to have a chat. Now please put the staff down, it's very dangerous."

"Dangerous? I'm not a mage so how could a staff-" a spike of ice flew from the staff barely missing Marcus. The boy jumped back behind a rock.

"That's impossible. I'm not a mage." Marcus walked over to the boy and picked up his staff. He held out his hand to the boy.

"You're not, it's just the staff. So how about we talk?" The boy hesitated a bit, still unsure if he should. "I've got some food." The boy grabbed his hand and walked with him towards the fire.

Marcus handed him a chicken stick and both sat down as the boy cooked.

"What's your name?" Marcus asked.

"Piven."

"Well met Piven. My name is Marcus, a pleasure. You know you were lucky when I found you from those slavers."

"Did you kill them?"

"Of course. Slavery is an evil practice and no one deserves such a fate."

"Even an elf?"

"Elves are people too. I've hated how people look down on others simply for their race or anything different from them."

Piven looked up from the embers as he started his meal. "If you hate slavery that much, what's a mage like yourself doing in a country like this."

"Well, I'm an adventurer but also a good samaritan that helps anyone in need. Recently I've come here for magical artifacts that the Tevinters are holding. A client of mine wants me to retrieve them so they can be returned to their rightful purpose."

"You mean to the elves? Because that's what all the shem here based their magic off."

"Well, my client is an elf if you must know. I was going to the city to ask around but I'm afraid these people tend to hoard their secrets a lot. But my client would be very unpleased if I can't get him his secrets."

"This client of yours sounds a lot like the magister that enslaved me, always so focused on collecting magic items. He'd always use slaves for his rituals or force them to go into dangerous ruins."

Marcus perked with curiosity at Piven's words and a formulation of a plan. "Really? Piven, I'd like to propose an offer to you. Your former master would give me a place to start my search and you could lead me to him."

Piven stood up and threw his chicken to the ground. "Why would I do that? I spent every waking moment tortured under that monster and I've just escaped. I've no reason to go back."

"But you do," Marcus said, "that man is going to continue torturing all those poor souls even harsher now that you've escaped. You can't let him continue to do as he pleases. I can help you get revenge against that monster and return all those stolen artifacts."

"Why should I trust your word? What's to say you won't try to sell me back."

Marcus reached behind and planted his staff in the ground. "Take my staff as a hostage. If I can help you get revenge, then you give it back. If I try to betray you, I won't be able to harm you. You could easily kill me with the blade."

Piven was surprised at this shem's words. He was putting a great deal of trust into someone he just met for no reason. Yet he couldn't feel but somehow that he could trust him perhaps. And this could be his chance to help his people. Piven took a grip of the staff, a short blade protruding on one end and some ball on the other. It looked as though it were made of wood but somehow a stronger material may be more than ironbark. Piven's eyes laid square upon Marcus with determination.

"When do we leave?"