Need_some_help._I'm_looking_for_an_Avatar_Last_Airbender_story_where_they_go_back_in_time_using_four_magical_items.
Ronin growled in pain as he turned himself over, trying to disturb his arm as little as possible in the confines of the ravine he now lay in. The lowest point was just wide enough for his shoulders to fit while lying flat
'Battle plans never survive contact with the enemy.' von Moltke, thought Ronin as he felt his shoulder, and touched the black arrow that protruded from his freshly wounded appendage. One of the darkspawn archers had tagged him as he ran back down the path.
Very true… he thought as he snapped the arrow near the barbed tip, his other fist clenched in an attempt to take his mind off the pain. As the larger half of the arrow shaft was removed through the newly made hole in the armor, its smaller counterpart shifted enough to release a fresh trickle of blood that flowed from the wound down to his bicep between the hardened sheets of leather before dripping to the ground. I've been like this before… 'cept I was sixteen… and not bleeding.
"Ronin?" floated Tamlen's voice from above, his tone worried. "Are you alright?"
Moving as quickly as possible while blending in with the foliage, Ronin stalked towards the darkspawn, both ironbark blades held at the ready should they detect him before he was within striking range.
The ten of them were chattering in one large clump, grunting and shoving each other. Three of them had gnarled short bows made of ash over their shoulders, hooked on quivers filled with wicked looking arrows. Two of them held a longsword in their dirty hands, the blades rusty, pitted, and cracked in places, but sturdy enough to pierce his armor should the opportunity arise. The others held daggers of various lengths, some covered with a film that was either poison or the rotting remnants of previous kills. Their blades, like the longswords, were in similar states of deterioration, rust and cracks more prominent than actual steel.
Quietly, Ronin slid into their midst, sliding between two of them when they turned their backs on each other. He had to be much more careful now, seeing how he was close enough to touch the darkspawn. That fact went both ways, as he was now in range of their weapons should they detect him.
Alright, pick one that's isolated… thought Ronin as he crept through the genlocks, feeling glad that the true Ronin had been very proficient in rogue abilities. This would be impossible if he didn't know stealth.
One gunlock turned abruptly as Ronin was passing behind him, beady little eyes searching for anything amiss. This action nearly gave Ronin a heart attack, thinking he had been discovered. He froze up, halting all motion as he stood two feet away from the darkspawn.
Move, shouted his instincts, almost jarring him into action at the feeling of familiar actions. Then his instincts told him not to move, the same sense of familiarity filling him.
What is going on here? One second I want to move, the next I don't want to…what the hell? More hesitation like that will get me wounded… or worse, killed, Ronin thought, his heart rate climbing to panic levels.
Luckily, the darkspawn did not perceive any threats behind him and turned back, assuming its original stance amongst it brethren. Ronin breathed easier as he left behind his physical and mental predicaments and focused on setting up an attack vector and escape route for when he struck.
With a flick of his wrist, he slit the throat of one of the longsword bearers, leaving him to drop his sword with a thump and grasp at his throat as he fell. The gurgling sounds he made as he tried to breathe quickly called the other's attention to their newly dead compatriot.
Assuming that the genlocks of Dragon Age share scaled characteristics of humans, I've cut both the carotid artery and the jugular vein. Unconsciousness in less than thirty seconds and death in two minutes, max, thought Ronin, as he came to stand behind another darkspawn at the back of the group. He had evacuated the area as soon as his blade had cleared the first victim's throat, leaving a corpse to draw attention so he could strike from behind. The nine left immediately approached their fallen comrade, grunting in their unintelligible language at the sight of one of their own lying in a pool of its own blood.
Flipping his offhand blade around so that his blade now faced in, he stabbed the blade into the flesh that lay between the genlock's right shoulder and neck. With his arm now looped around the darkspawn's neck, he dragged his blade from one side of the genlock to the other, slicing through the top half of its lungs, a few major arteries in its neck, and maybe a nicked the aorta.
When he withdrew his dagger from what remained of the creature's neck, the blade came away with a sickening schlock and an arterial spray of foul blood, alerting the others to his presence behind them as the blood splattered against their dirty skin.
Oh, shit, was all that was going through his mind as he leapt forward, diving between a pair with blade outstretched in each hand, aiming for the jugular as to take as many darkspawn out of the battle as he could before he ran back to Merrill and Tamlen. He connected with one, the other dodging out of his way with a quick sidestep. His athleticism challenged partner did not fare as well as he did, receiving a large cut through one side of his neck.
Ronin rolled out of the dive, neatly ducking under the other longsword's bloodthirsty length as he went back to his feet. Four darkspawn corpses now littered the forest floor, leaving the other sword bearer and all four archers standing.
Less enemies means less threats to the others, he thought as he spun on his heel, leaning back as to avoid being stabbed by the longsword while his knives flashed out to attack the leg of one and the jaw of another. He connected with the leg, severing the femoral artery, but missed the throat, leaving that genlock prepare to counter. His partner grasped at his leg in a vain attempt to slow the bleeding, sinking to the ground as he pushed his palms into his thigh.
The fact that he'd killed four genlocks in less than two minutes did not lighten Ronin's heart as he remembered what the Dragon Age Wiki and game experience had taught him:
Genlocks are the most numerous breed of darkspawn. They're short, stocky, and easily killed. But in large enough groups, they can present a problem for trained warriors or even a seasoned Warden.
Ronin recovered his balance by dancing back a step, narrowly dodging an arrow that sped past his head as he did so, the fletching grazing his hair as it flew. He looked over his handiwork, noting that, of the four archers, two had now unlimbered their bows and one of them had an arrow nocked to the gut string.
"Now might be a good time to retreat," he said as he sheathed his blades and turned tail, charging back down the path as fast as his elven body could move. Judging by the footfalls that followed, a couple of the genlocks were giving chase, but not all.
His theory was confirmed when he heard the fwap of a bowstring and felt a fist impact his left shoulder, sending him tumbling off the path instead of taking the corner where Tamlen and Merrill were waiting to spring the trap.
Merrill and Tamlen stood by the bend in the path, Merrill with her hands raised while Tamlen held his shield in a ready position, his sword point first in the ground. Between Merrill's hands was a lick of flame, ready to become a raging inferno of conjured fire at the mage's whim.
It was surprising for them, to say the least, when Ronin, instead of taking the corner, was struck by an arrow and fell into the ravine.
Merrill gasped and nearly let the flame die away as she watched one of her clan-mates tumble down the ravine after being shot. The flame, nearly out, was brought back to full intensity in an instant as six darkspawn ran to the edge of the ravine, looking for the elf they had just shot over the drop.
Not-brother shot, fall out of sight, dead? thought the genlock as it hurried with its brothers to the edge, looking for the one who was like them but not.
No… not dead… feel tug… it felt at the bond, knowing it would not be very long before the not-brother became full-brother
~Crack~ a sound interrupted its thoughts, turning its attention elsewhere.
Sound… twig snap? it thought, tilting its head as he turned.
Fire-scent?
The genlock turned to the left, looking for the source of the noise, only to find a pair of elves standing not three paces away from it and its brothers. It paused, confused at the presence of fire-scent.
The pause only took a half a second, in which the genlock saw the small lick of flame held in the hands of the female elf.
It was too long.
Merrill unleashed a giant cone of flame, flames so hot they appeared white rather than orange. She poured her fear – fear that she had lost someone who mattered to her – and her fury – fury caused by those who hurt her clan – into the spell. Her emotions added fuel to the flames, causing them to be so much more powerful than normal.
And more dangerous.
"Die!" she screamed, flexing her hands as she redoubled her efforts, her actions sending a new wave of flame jetting at the darkspawn. The closest corpse was cremated, reduced to ashes and glowing scraps of metal, its armor and hide providing no protection against the inferno it found itself in the heart of. "Just die!"
Tamlen, seeing the rage on her face and the amount of mana she was expending, reached out and grabbed her arm, forcing her attention elsewhere on the off chance that Ronin was clambering back up the ravine towards the magically conjured flames. "Be still, Merrill. Ronin might be climbing up the ravine!"
She nodded, shaken out of her fury induced tunnel vision, and let the cone of flame die away, leaving only the remnants and ashes of the genlocks to mark its brief existence.
Merrill hung her head, breathing deeply as the full weight of her actions fell upon her, leaving her weaker than what she should have been. "I'm sorry, lethallin."
"Do not apologize. We've killed the darkspawn and the path is clear. Let's look after our brother before we do anything else." With those words and a reassuring embrace, Tamlen walked over to the edge of the ravine.
"Do you see him?" asked Merrill, leaning on her staff due to her recent mana expenditure.
"Not yet," said Tamlen, squinting down at the foliage beneath his position. "Ronin? Are you alright?"
Ronin scowled as he pulled himself to his knees, shaking his head as if it would ward off the pain radiating from his shoulder. "I have an arrow in my shoulder and I'm at the bottom of a ravine. Do I sound alright?"
A low chuckle was heard from above, muffled as if behind someone's hand. Merrill, no doubt, thought Ronin as he began to crawl up the ravine, using one of his daggers as an anchor point to drag himself up steeper slopes. His shoulder screamed at him with every movement that jostled his armor, making the skin around the wound stretch painfully taut. "I can hear you, Merrill!"
He was halfway up the slope when Tamlen appeared; bouncing off the tilted trees that grew along the embankment and using his hunting knife as an anchor point should he land on unsure footing. "Aneth ara, lethallin. Care for a hand?"
Ronin shot him a look, loaded with equal parts with annoyance and happiness, as he sheathed his blade and grasped Tamlen's outstretched hand. "Watch the shoulder. Arrowhead's still in."
"Understood," said Tamlen, looping his clansmen's arm over his shoulder. With Ronin being helped by Tamlen, the path towards the top was easily traversed now that Ronin was not hindered as much by his injury.
"Ronin!" called Merrill as her light-haired intended and his cloak-covered friend came into view as Tamlen slashed at an offending branch of a shrub growing in their path. "How bad is your arm?"
With a groan, Ronin and Tamlen flopped over the edge of the ravine and lay on the level ground, Tamlen on his back gasping for air and Ronin on his knees, his wounded left arm cradled in his right.
"I may need healing, Merrill, once someone removes the arrowhead," growled out Ronin as he released his arm into his lap so he could reach for the straps of his armor, aggravating the leftover shaft of the arrow. The slowness of his movements was noticed by Merrill.
"Hold still." Small hands replaced his, brushing his away with a gentle touch. Merrill had dropped to her knees and started undoing the straps as soon as she noticed the pain it caused. She huffed in annoyance as she looked at the numerous fastenings of his armor, not to mention the strap oh his quiver/sheaths, shaking her head as she continued. "Is it necessary for hunters to have so many straps for their armor?"
Tamlen laughed as he examined the breach in Ronin's armor, his touch feather-light in case he accidently touched the arrow shaft remnants. "We need our armor secure, Merrill, because if anything is loose, it can make noise. Prey is scared off by strange noises."
Merrill nodded absentmindedly as she finished releasing all the straps and ties from their respective buckles and knots. "Raise your right arm, Ronin. We're going to slide off your armor now."
When his armor slid off with a rasp of leather on flesh, Ronin made no noise. He barely moved, other than a slight flexing of his jaw muscles as he ground his teeth. Well, what do you know? Turns out the true Ronin is used to pain… good thing I got that as well as my own resilience. Then again, Ronin sat through his Vallaslin, the complex version no less.
Tamlen whistled as he saw the wound in Ronin's shoulder, which was weeping blood, mostly from the journey back up the ravine. "They got you good, lethallin. Good thing your armor took the most of it… it didn't break your shoulder blade. "
"Excellent… my day is now complete," Ronin said, rolling his eyes. "Could you get. The arrowhead. Out!"
"Right, right," said Tamlen as he took out his hunting knife. "We start on three. Merrill… hold him."
"Do you want me to cast a sleep spell?" asked, Merrill as she braced Ronin, holding him as firmly as she could in their current position.
"One…"
Ronin looked over with a grim smile on his face. "Don't waste the mana. I caught some of that flame blast you used. You can't expend much more and still be able for combat."
"Three…"
"Three? What happened to-" Merrill queried before noting the pained expression on Ronin's face. A quick look over his shoulder had Merrill seeing Tamlen carefully carving a line through the entry wound and then digging out the arrowhead, all without Ronin moving so much as an inch. "Oh…"
After a few seconds, Tamlen pulled the arrowhead, a jagged piece of black, rusty iron, out of Ronin's shoulder. As soon as the arrowhead was out, Tamlen forced the wound's edges back together as best as he could with blood slicked hands. "Merrill, use one of your healing spells."
Merrill's hands began to glow a light blue as she shifted so that she could kneel beside Tamlen, passing them over the wound with a careful eye. Healing was a difficult art to learn and, though she was a novice compared to the Keeper, who knew healing so well that she could cause major wounds to close up in seconds, Merrill had to concentrate, as an improper healing could hinder Ronin's movements in the future.
Tamlen smiled as his beloved healed his clansman, reducing the wound from a bloody puncture to a circular scar in a matter of seconds. "Emm'asha does good work. Right, Ronin?"
With a quick flex and roll of his shoulders, Ronin sprang to his feet and began shifting his arm to see if he could put it through a full range of motion. "Not bad, Merrill. I don't feel anything more than a dull ache."
"Thank you, Ronin. I do my best. Try not to over exert yourself and see the Keeper when we get back." Merrill blushed as Tamlen bestowed a kiss on her cheek before standing, brushing leaves and dirt off her robes. "I cannot have my lethallin's second be a subpar hunter because of a stray arrow."
A tremble in her legs was the only warning before she sank back to her knees, her head swimming. Tamlen catching her by the elbows was the only reason she didn't slam her knees hard on the ground.
"Merrill?" asked Tamlen, concern in his voice and his eyes. "You used too much, didn't you?"
Second? thought Ronin as he reached for his armor, weapons and cloak while Merrill was supported by Tamlen. Several little things were becoming noticeable problems, if taken all together as one major problem. I'm not getting any memories of becoming his second, or any other major memories from Ronin's past... lack of important memories, hesitations, mixed reactions to familiar stimuli… Why is this happening to me?
"Thanks, Ronin," said Tamlen, catching a glass vial with a blue glow around it. Merrill grabbed, uncorked, and drank it all in a smooth movement, "I'm glad we took these off those mage hunters the shem Chantry sent into the forest."
"I have my own," Merrill grumbled beneath her breath, rolling her eyes but smiling nonetheless. I can take of myself… though it's nice to know they care.
Ronin twitched, barely able to withhold any movements noticeable by the other elves. He looked down slowly at his outstretched arm, hand tilted and open as if he had just tossed the vial to Tamlen.
He had.
I didn't even know I had a lyrium potion, thought Ronin, his pulse thundering in his ears. Adrenaline coursed through him, making him want to run as fast as he could in any direction. His flight-or-fight instinct was kicking in, though running away or fighting had little to do with the problem at hand.
His other problem, the darkspawn taint, chose to make itself known at this moment, making him hack and cough. A look at his forearm, usually hidden beneath his armor, showed a slightly blackened vein next to normal hues of blue and red. I'm running on borrowed time, Ronin thought, looking over his veins with a sinking feeling in his gut.
"Nice toss, lethallin," said Tamlen. "Thought you led with your left hand."
"I've been practicing," Ronin replied hastily, eyes going wide as he turned away again.
"Ah, yes. Your training to be better with both of those blades of yours."
Oh, this is getting bad. Their noticing things that are different!
"I am ready to go, Tamlen, Ronin." While Ronin had been thinking about his problems, Merrill had finished the vial of lyrium and rose to her feet, looking more alert than either of them.
Ronin nodded absentmindedly and threw his armor, weapons and cloak back on; readying himself for the confrontations he knew was coming. With a final tug at the straps holding his quiver, Ronin was ready for continuing.
"You alright, lethallin?" asked Tamlen, placing his hand on Ronin's shoulder, just above the puncture in the leather. "You seem troubled."
Ronin pulled his hood back over his head, putting his face back into the comforting shadows he knew well from this world and the previous.
"It's nothing."
The walk into the cave was easy, owing to the fact that most of the darkspawn that should have been in their path were dead of fresh slash and stab wounds, made from a longsword and dagger respectively.
"Slain darkspawn," said Ronin in a low rumble, reaching down to shift a corpse so that he could see beneath it. "It must've been this 'Duncan' the Keeper wants us to help."
"Agreed." Tamlen had his shield out and strapped to his arm with his blade unsheathed in his hand. He was taking no chances, especially since his friend had taken an arrow to the back. There were more darkspawn about. He knew they were there; could hear the faintest shuffling in the distance that was too loud for critters and too soft for the shem who had preceded them.
Ronin leaned against a rock, looking down the corridor, searching for hidden enemies, until the stone shifted, allowing several smaller stones and a large amount of dust to fall from the ceiling.
Ronin dodged deftly aside, missing the stones but not escaping the dust that filled the air.
He pulled at his hood, putting more of his face in shadow as he coughed into the back of his dagger-filled hand, a hoarse sounding rattle that echoed in the gloom. Noticing the look of concern sent his way from Tamlen and Merrill, he quickly began walking deeper into the ruins, talking over his shoulder as he went. "I'll go ahead of you, take out any stragglers and warn you of any larger groups."
"Wait! You're not-" Merrill hissed, trailing off as he disappeared. "Well."
"It's just the dust, Merrill," said Ronin from further down the corridor. "Don't worry, I'm fine."
Their concerns lessened, they began to walk slowly down the hall, following the quicker moving rogue.
I wish that was the truth, thought Ronin as he continued down his path
With his blades at the ready, he slid soundlessly down the corridor, ignoring the whisper from Merrill and keeping an eye on the shadows on the off chance there were any genlock rogues hiding in their own shadows.
Luckily, he saw the genlocks before they had a chance to see him, as they were already preoccupied by sounds now emanating from the direction of the mirror room.
One by one, Ronin slit their throats and dragged them into the shadows before any of their corrupted brethren could see his movements. This is like Splinter Cell… though there's no retry option, should I screw up…great…
Once the room was clear, he allowed himself to become visible, appearing in the middle of a patch of light. He waved the others forward as he started going through the pockets of the closest corpse, using his dagger to cut the compartments open rather than try and touch the armor. One carried a few sovereigns for reason unknown, but Ronin pocketed them without complaint, as money was money.
With a quick flip and a teeth-baring grin, Ronin pulled his hood down and disappeared, returning to his job as forward scout and assassin.
At the T-junction before the door to the mirror, where the bones of the skeletons they had killed still lay, stood a pair of genlocks, facing the closed door with blades lowered but still ready.
This won't do… thought Ronin as he crept up behind one, sheathing his offhand blade and snagging a few small pebbles from the ground as he did so. With a quick toss, the pebbles cracked off the stone and skipped down the hallway behind the pair.
Both genlocks turned and looked to where the pebble had hit, grunting in surprise. One immediately headed off down the hall to investigate, which left Ronin alone with the other.
Grabbing the face of genlock with his now free hand, he pulled it back as he sank his knife into the back of the genlock's head, inserting the keenly honed ironbark blade up into his brain between the C1 Atlas vertebra and occipital bone, penetrating into the medulla oblongata. With that single strike, he destroyed the part of the brain responsible for the involuntary functions of breathing and heartbeat. The genlock was dead before he hit the floor.
The light clatter of the dead genlock's armor on the ground had the other turning back, looking for the new source of noise. Halfway into the turn, the genlock's head ran into Ronin's dagger, the blade punching through the eye socket and into the brain. It twitched for a few seconds and made as if to grasp at the elf's arm before it went limp, sliding off Ronin's blade with a sucking sound as it fell.
Ronin smiled as he put his fingers to his mouth and blew a sharp whistle, the all clear signal. Seconds later, Tamlen and Merrill walked into the junction, staff, blade and shield at the ready, just in case.
"This is the last room and it's where we found the mirror. If Duncan isn't in here, he must have left before we arrived," remarked the rogue as he sheathed his daggers and walked towards the door. "Be prepared, there may be more darkspawn."
"Have we not killed more than thirty of these things already?" asked Merrill, conjuring a flame in one hand while she held her staff in the other, prepared to cast a simultaneous attack.
"Ronin's killed a dozen, as have I," remarked Tamlen, standing right next to the door. He'd be the first one in, seeing how he had the heaviest armor and a shield. "You have the smallest number of kills, Emm'asha."
Ronin chuckled at the sight of Merrill pouting as he knelt in front of the door to peer beneath it. No motion… I see a few corpses, but I don't see Duncan's feet.
He stood and drew his daggers, taking up position behind Tamlen, ready to enter the room. "I don't see anyone in there, but they may be hidden."
"Alright then," said Tamlen as he kicked open the door and charged in, shield up to catch anything that came his way. He stopped short at the sight of the human they had been sent to find. "Duncan?"
Duncan turned as Merrill and Ronin entered the room, sheathing his sword and dagger. "So… you were the one fighting darkspawn. I thought I heard combat."
Ronin smiled as he slid his blades back into sheathes at his back, glad to see the end of his sickness in sight. That, and finally meeting Duncan of the Grey Wardens.
Duncan wore a mix of plate and leather, unique to him as far as Ronin's knowledge went, with an off-white robe worn underneath. The plate armor protected his torso and hands, made of silverite by the looks of things, while heavy leather protected his arms from shoulders to gauntlets. The off-white robe makes him look similar to the scholars and Assassins from AC.
His dagger and sword were in plain, brown leather scabbards at his hips, longsword at his right and dagger at his left. Large belts around his waist supported the scabbards as well as a few pouches of various size, probably carrying poultices and the like.
Finally… Duncan's here, like the in the game! Thank the Creators! I can be cured by joining the Wardens.
"You two are the elves I found at the mouth of these caves two days ago, correct?" asked Duncan, looking at Ronin and Tamlen in turn. "I am surprised you have recovered."
"You're Duncan, yes?" asked Ronin, knowing but asking for the sake of it. Hello, Peter Renaday "The Grey Warden who found us?"
Duncan bowed slightly in acknowledgement. "It's good to finally meet you. The last time we spoke, you were barely conscious."
"Andaran atish'an, Duncan of the Grey Wardens," said Merrill, nodding at Duncan in respect as she leaned on her staff. "I am Merrill, the Keeper's First."
"I am Ronin, one of the hunters."
Tamlen sheathed his blade and slung his shield on his back before addressing Duncan. "And I am Tamlen, also one of the hunters. Did you come here alone, human? Battling all those creatures?"
"Yes, though I must admit, you took a great deal of pressure off me," he remarked, looking at the corpses that decorated the room. "Your Keeper did not send you after me, did she? I told her I would be in no danger."
"The Keeper wished for us to support you and return you safely to the camp. She wishes to speak with you once your task is done," explained Ronin.
"Very well," Duncan sighed, shaking his head. "So you and Tamlen entered the cave and found this mirror, yes?"
"Yes," confirmed Tamlen. "I was knocked out in the battle with the bereskarn, so I can't say what happened afterwards."
"I carried Tamlen out of the cave, in case there were any more enemies about," Ronin continued. "I returned and examined the mirror. When I touched it, a bright light flared up and threw me into the wall, where I blacked out."
Duncan's gaze grew grave at the news. "I see. That is… unfortunate. The Grey Wardens have seen mirrors like this one before. It is Tevinter in origin, used for communication.
"Over time, some of them simply…" Duncan hesitated, searching for the right words. "…break. They become filled with the same taint as the darkspawn. Your touch must have released it. It is what made you sick."
"Why have the darkspawn come here?" asked Tamlen, looking over Duncan's shoulder at the mirror.
"They are drawn to the taint, like moths to a flame," replied Duncan. "More will come, given time."
"Then it must be destroyed," said Ronin.
"Agreed. As long as it exists, it remains a threat to all who come here."
"I do not fear this sickness. The Keeper has cured Ronin of it, she can do it again," said Merrill, skeptical of the corruption.
"She may have weakened it, but she did not cure it," said Duncan, his voice grave. He seemed very sad to say it. "His recovery is only temporary. I can sense the sickness in you… and it is spreading. Look inside yourself, and you will see."
Yeah, I know… I can feel it, thought Ronin, nodding at Duncan's words. "There is somethi-"
He broke off coughing, sinking to his knees as he tried to breathe and cough at the same time.
"Ronin!" whispered Tamlen, coming to crouch by the coughing hunter. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fi-" Ronin broke off, pressing his fist to his mouth as he began to cough again, his entire torso shaking with each bark from his throat.
Tamlen pulled back his hood and forced Ronin to look at him.
His eyes were sunken in his skull, he had bags beneath his eyes as if he'd put off sleeping for a week and a spider web of dark veins was above where his armor ended at the neck.
Tamlen stepped back as Merrill gasped, afraid of the condition of their friend. Ronin rolled his eyes and threw his cowl back up, hiding his face. "The disease the Keeper tried to cure is back."
"I thought the Keeper cured it, not delayed it," said Merrill, her hands glowing blue as she walked over. "And you didn't look like that thirty minutes ago."
"As I said, he is not cured," repeated Duncan, stepping forward as if to help. "And this corruption acts faster than most diseases you know."
"Let me try some healing spells the Keeper showed me while you were still out of it. It may delay it long enough to get you back to Marethari." With that, Merrill grabbed his neck and wrist with her hands and began to pump wave after wave of restorative energy through him, aimed at the dark and twisted thing within him.
What neither Tamlen nor Merrill expected to happen was Ronin's pain filled scream to echo through the cave as black liquid began to float out of the seams in his armor at his shoulders and his eye sockets.
Merrill's concentration broke and the magic she was manipulating faltered, causing a wave of pure magic that fizzled out rather than enter its target. The black liquid that had been draining out of Ronin splattered against the walls, the mirror, and the shield Merrill had thrown up as a reflex.
She stepped back as Ronin collapsed, clutching at his chest and eyes as pained gasps filling the air. He ripped at the straps of the bracer on his arm and tore it off, revealing normal veins in blue and red shades with no black in sight. He sat down heavily, rubbing his forearm with his other hand, as if soothing an ache.
"That… hurt," he growled out between clenched teeth, surprising both Tamlen and Merrill. Both knew of his high pain tolerance, but for him to say something about it means it must have been a monumental amount of pain. "But it seems to have worked. I don't feel as sick as I was."
Tamlen strode forward and pulled his clans mate to his feet, holding him up when he stumbled from the pain. "Can you continue?"
"I'm alright… just a little achy." Ronin pushed Tamlen away as he straightened up and snagged his bracer off the floor. He quickly wrapped it back around his arm and flexed his arm to get it back in the correct position. "I can still fight."
"You're sure?" asked Merrill, drinking a pair of lyrium filled vials to offset the exhaustion that was sure to be coming after the expenditure for healing.
"Impressive," said Duncan, surprise clear in his voice. "You overpowered the spell, and literally tore the corruption out of him… well, not all of it. It will be back."
"Then what should I do?" asked Ronin, inwardly smiling.
"First, we deal with the mirror. It is a pestilence and a threat," said Duncan, drawing his longsword.
He stopped when he felt Ronin's hand on his arm. He looked back to see brown eyes staring at him from the shadows of the camouflage cowl.
"Please, allow me," pleaded Ronin. "I unleashed this. I should be the one to end it."
Duncan nodded and stepped back, returning his sword to its scabbard. "Very well."
Ronin drew his main dagger and walked up the steps. Whisperings started in his ears, indistinct voices that got louder as he closed in on the mirror. He could barely make out parts of words when he stood in front of it.
"-I wi- -ive yu- -wer! Do n- bre- -e mir-or!"
With a steady hand, Ronin struck at the mirror, aiming for the center.
Shock radiated from him when his hand was intercepted before he could complete the slash, a hand catching his wrist and stopping all motion.
The hand that had grasped his was matte black, sported talons rather than fingernails and covered with swirls and strokes that glowed gold, emerging from within the mirror.
"What the?" yelled Ronin, staring at the limb before he was pulled off balance, the hand withdrawing into the mirror, trying to take him with it. "Help!"
Duncan, who had been closest, leapt of the stairs in a manner befitting a younger man and leant his strength to Ronin's, who was using his other hand on the edge of the mirror to try and push himself away. The muscles in his neck stood out against his neck as he forced his head away, keeping his face away from the mirror that had pulled him in up to his shoulder.
Tamlen charged up the steps after him, latching onto Ronin's other shoulder and threw his weight back towards the stairs, making Ronin slide a few inches out of the mirror. "Pull!"
With the sound of glass splintering, the hold was released, which led to the three melee fighters falling down the stairs as the weight they had been fighting against disappeared.
They looked back up to the mirror to find it shattered, leaving only the frame around where the silvered glass had been intact.
"What the hell was that?" asked Ronin, both to himself and to the others. What the fuck was that? When Duncan destroyed the mirror in the game, nothing like this ever happened!
"I am not sure," said Duncan, rolling to his feet after pushing Tamlen off his leg. "Perhaps something from the Fade was in the mirror. Luckily, Merrill there was quick enough to destroy the mirror."
The three men turned to look at Merrill, intent on expressing their gratitude, Ronin most of all, when they saw a look of horror on her face as she looked at Ronin.
Specifically, Ronin's arm…
The armored gauntlet that had covered his arm to the elbow, the guard that protected his upper arm, and the shoulder had disappeared, leaving his arm bare almost to his neck. The skin that was exposed was now dark, ranging from a dark grey to pure black, with a trail of blue-white swirls that traveled from fingertips to shoulder and glowed of their own accord. Talons had sprouted from his fingertips, razor sharp points taking the pace of his fingernails and tips.
"…I have never seen anything like this," whispered Duncan, touching the blackened limb with a finger. The flesh refused to yield, feeling more like stone rather than muscle wrapped in skin. Yet, to his surprise, the tendons shifted the flesh freely when Ronin wiggled his fingers.
"Interesting…" said Merrill as she crouched next to Ronin, poking his arm with a finger. "Do you feel that? Any pain?"
Odd, thought Ronin as he twisted his hand in front of his face, marveling at the change. It feels no different than my normal hand. At Merrill's questioning glance, he answered, "No, no pain, but I do feel you poking me."
Tamlen picked up a shard of the fallen stonework and tossed it to him. "Think those talons of yours are sharp?" he asked, a wary look on his face.
Catching the rock in his left, he brought it to the taloned right hand. With barely any pressure, the claws sank into the stone without resistance, like putting a hand through water. Withdrawing his new claws, he looked at the flawless grooves he'd carved through the granite.
"Uh… I guess that answers that question," said Tamlen, concern clear on his face. He circled around to stand at Ronin's unaffected side, watching the arm with a wary eye. "Do you feel anything from it, Warden?"
"Please, call me Duncan," said the veteran Warden, holding Ronin's arm up to eye level. After a moment of silence, in which Duncan closed his eyes and Ronin felt a mental nudge in his center, Duncan released his arm, shaking his head. "I sense nothing from his arm, no heartbeat, no warmth… no remnants of the taint, either."
"Perhaps we should let the Keeper take a look at it, yes?" asked Merrill, touching Ronin's arm with a handful of healing magic. Instead of entering the arm, like normal healing magic would, the magic simply slid up his arm to where the black faded to his normal skin tone and disappeared, absorbed by the rest of him.
With an intrigued look on everyone's faces, including his, Ronin stood and draped what was left of his cloak over his bare arm. "Let's get back to camp."
"Yes, let us leave this place. I must speak with the Keeper immediately regarding your cure," said Duncan as he stood as well, brushing dust and dirt off his robes. "I sense no other darkspawn nearby, so it's safe. Lead on."