These were no skeletons, and no puny creatures emerged from the dark corners of a battlefield. Some of them, glowing monuments of red lava, Gudrun hadn't even seen before. Neither had Miach, whose face, while on the task, betrayed a deep shock. The rest of their companions seemed more used to the sight, even Sten, and Gudrun gathered this had not been his first time dealing with this sort of magic.
"Focus on the dark ones!" Iola advised, "Leave the rage demons to us!" Us being Alistair and the mages. The ex templar knocked down one of the glowing creatures and three rays of frost descended on it consecutively, like a tall pillar of ice.
On their side of things, Miach was having a hard time trying to disentangle one of the lesser beasts from Sten. The three of them wrestled. A second one saw its chance to claw at Miach's back but it was stopped by Leliana's timely arrows. She always tried hard to keep the skinny bastard alive, but someone had to worry about her. It was Gudrun's turn, then. She rammed at the second demon with her shield, and then put her ax through its skull.
It seemed the battle would be over soon, but the mages were having trouble with their part. One of the rage demons had escaped their icy grasp and disappeared to emerge on another corner of the room and call another wave of the minor demons.
Morrigan and Iola threw themselves at it, but Wynne had to tend to Sten, who had been clawed bad, and in the meantime, Miach, Leliana and Gudrun were being swarmed by the creatures.
Gudrun tried to position herself across Alistair so as to keep Wynne protected in the middle, but it was hard to keep an eye on the old woman and on her own back. A rage demon appeared right behind her, it lifted its burning fists, big enough tu crush Wynne's skull. Gudrun swiped her ax at it, distracting it enough time but leaving her left open. When she realized she had another of the dark demons behind, it was too late.
She only saw it out of the corner of her eye seconds before it struck... and then it didn't. A dagger passed through what should've been its neck and it dissolved. Gudrun expected to see Miach behind, but was surprised to see Zevran the assassin instead. Zevran whom she had ordered to stay behind with Levi Dryden, Zevran who she half trusted half feared would attempt to complete his quest when they least expected it.
Gudrun huffed, out of breath for a second. She threw him a menacing look before turning her attention to the remaining demons. The extra help was welcomed and soon they were able to finish off the creatures.
She walked up to him, bumped him on the chest, "Arainai. What are you doing here?"
"Follow your footsteps, signora." He replied, smiling innocently.
She was tempted to reprimand him, remind the elf what orders were and how to follow them, but she caught herself. No, Zevran of all people must know well what orders are, she thought, this has been a decision.
She raised her eyebrows in a questioning manner. The elf scratched his neck.
"Levi here was getting nervous. After all, we both alone there... in the cold and darkness... not knowing what might've befallen you... I could not bear the thought." His dark eyes twinkled, and Gudrun had to suppress a snort.
"It is my fault, my lady Warden," Dryden interjected, "I couldn't wait to hear about Sophia's fate... now that I've witnessed this I wish I would've stayed put."
She regarded them both for a few seconds, when her eyes met Zevran's her lips threatened to curve upwards, ever so slightly, "Very well," she said. And that was that.
No point in worrying about Zevran when the state of affairs in the tower was so dire.
Dryden was still mumbling to himself, "I can't believe it... the wardens, summoning demons, and Sophia agreeing... encouraging..."
"Duncan used to say mixing wardens and politics never ends well... I didn't think it could get this bad though."
"Only for lack of imagination on your part..."
"Morrigan..."
"At least we know what happened, and what might be awaiting," Wynne pointed out.
"Is it like in Redcliff, then? Like Connor?"
Gudrun looked from Dryden to Alistair and back, "Levi, what did you say this woman was to you? You great great something..."
"Great great grandmother."
"Stone... yeah, if there is a demon it's sure isn't going be like Connor."
There was a silence as a chilling thought came to them all. Gudrun patted Dryden's arm and turned her attention to the corner where her mages were congregating. There seemed to be a strange glow there, greenish and pale, like the surface of a lake. The eye wondered there on it's own, but it could be ignored if one put its mind to it.
"This is it, ain't it?"
"The tear. Indeed."
"At least is not too big, right?"
"It would still take strength to close it," Iola clicked her tongue, "A lot."
The three of them seemed concerned, if in varying degrees. Even Morrigan had a worried look in her eyes, which was a sure sign that the Tear was not just Chantry nonsense, but a real threat.
"Let's keep moving. If there is something else waiting in the tower I want it over with before we start looking into this thing. Sound good?"
They nodded, silently, and the whole group proceeded up the stairs where Avernus had once ran up.
"Don't sneak up on us like that again, Arainai."
"Ah but then where would be the excitement, the drama of a timely rescue?"
Gudrun grunted.
He smiled sheepishly, "My apologies, and you are welcome."
Her lips twitched again. The elf understood very well; she didn't want to thank him for technically abandoning his post, but she was nevertheless grateful, and it appeared he somehow had managed to read that in her expression.
"I do not wish to antagonize you, Warden," he said suddenly, unprompted, "I just want to help, but you need to let me."
"Slow down, Arainai. I am beginning to think you have a bad habit of rushing into things."
"Ha! What gave me away? Was it the failed assassination?"
She chuckled lowly, "We are taking our time, alright?"
"As you wish."
The door of the study opened with an ominous creek. The room was lit; odd, none of the others had been before. Corpses don't need torches to see. At least in general.
Gudrun didn't know very well what she was expecting, probably the mage Avernus, like in the tales from Tevinter, clad in tattered, bloody robes, surrounded my a mountain of corpses. What they found was a slightly different sight, if not less horrifying.
A woman was standing behind a desk; the armor was rusty, dirty, rotting in places. The body that wore it was much the same way. They thought they might be in another one of those visions when the body spoke clearly and with projection.
"No further. This one will speak with the Warden."
Miach snorted, covered his mouth, staring in disbelief, "Wh- what are you?"
"Why, I am her. The Warden commander. Sophia. Yes, her."
Levi was paler than usual, and had to steady himself on Zevran to be able to stand, "Grandmother?"
The corpse smiled, wicked, "Yes, all those things, Grandmother too... I have seen the memories."
"You're a demon, aren't you?"
"This one is a guest, and you are ours, or you would be, if you had behaved accordingly. But since you've made it this far... I propose a deal."
Wynne, Leliana and Sten snapped at the same time, "Don't even think about it!"
"She's lived this long... she could be dangerous..."
Dryden caught Gudrun's arm, "Warden, that might be Sophia's body, but what's inside is not her."
"But does it matter?" The demon cooed, "We need not be enemies any longer, I could help you navigate the secrets of the past you so seek, I could..."
The corpse talked and paced, her eyes were white and had a feverish gleam, but all about it was wrong, like a piece of a puzzle that had been put in the wrong slot. Gudrun massaged her temples as the voices around her faded. Demons, they were a whole bunch of complicated. A topsider's problem most times and definitely one thing she didn't enjoy about the surface.
Morrigan had spoken little about them. She had said there were all sorts of spirits, but only demons clung to men and their affairs. They offered deals and boons just for a piece of the world. They kept their word, mostly, but were often more trouble than they were worth.
This one looked like far more trouble than it was worth for sure. A real piece of work to keep manning a puppet that had long abandoned this world. She might've made the wrong choice in the past, but Gudrun was sure that wherever she was, Sophia Dryden was pissed that this is how her body had ended up.
The corpse was grinning, no doubt amused by the sight of them. And of course she was, of course she fucking was, "What do you say, my fellow warden? Shall we part friends?"
"Sod it," she patted Alistair's arm, as a signal, "I am just not in the mood, grandma."