Dragon Age 3: Return of the Maker

Chapter 2: Enchantment

Sorry for the wait. School just started, and everything's been super hectic. I'll try to update again soon. Please read and review. I don't own Dragon Age. :(

Pounding. Hard, blunt, and tremendous pounding. The door was ready to split in two. Fists of rock flew through the air and collided with the door to the Hawke estate, but, still somehow, it stood firm.

"It isn't working," said a young, cloaked man from behind him. He, unlike the others, was not donning a staff. A dwarven made blade shimmered in the moonlight, asserting that he was not from the Gallows.

Again, another fist crashed into the seemingly wooden-made door. The man casting the spell shot him a look. "Do you think I'm blind? Of course I can see that it isn't working." The younger one frowned, but stepped farther away, as if he acknowledged his lowly place as a man-of-hire. The man abandoned his efforts as he lowered his staff. "The damn thing is enchanted. Powerful stuff, too." He glanced around. "You," he commanded to a surprisingly toughly built female mage. "Help me."

She approached him, looking rather broody. "Sir." She raised her cracked and burned wooden staff.

"Dispel it," the leader commanded. He, too, raised his weapon. The female underling did as she was told, and a brilliant, crystal blue enveloped the vicinity. She gave a nod to the commander, who gave little recognition. "You, swordsman. Break it down," he boomed at the renegade standing amongst the other mages.

By now, the still residing citizens in the Quarter were peeking out their windows, but no one shone any visible light through their windows. They were his audience, but they knew better than to draw attention to themselves. In the past days, everyone in the city knew that their lives hung on a very thin strand, after the mobocracy had grown into a full fledged extremist regime, which seemed to be approaching the despicable-ness of Meredith. Many of the citizens of Kirkwall were dead; killed from a plundering attempt gone wrong, or a fire. Many were too afraid to leave their houses, for fear of attack by rogues or to see the decaying body of Cullen hanging at the city gates. Many tried as best to be submissive, so as not to get caught in the crossfire, but even these types of people ended up dead.

The swordsman came up to the front of the group, as he had been before. His black, torn cloak covered his faces, making him appear as one of the shadows. He huffed slightly, still slightly sore from the reprimanding remark earlier. Bracing his sword, in case something was within the house, he bashed door with his foot and it swung open easily. The house, from what could be seen from outside, shone brightly with light. Knowing that he was the one that would have to go check and see if the coast was clear, the swordsman entered.

The leader of the mage group and his followers impatiently waited outside. Even from outside, they could hear the crack from within the house as other doors were kicked open. It did not take long until the man reentered into the square. "From what I saw," he said, "there wasn't anybody inside. The fireplace in her bedroom was still hot. Seems like she left in a hurry."

"Check and see," said the leader angrily to his followers. He tried to remain calm to keep the best control over the group, but he was fuming from within. The gut feeling he had told him that she was, indeed, gone. That would have meant that someone tipped her off. And the only logical person that could have been was the Champion's sister. Turning towards the female once more, he said, "Go see where our dear Bethany is."

She made no noise, but merely nodded, and ran off towards the Gallows. His assumptions were confirmed just a few moments later when one of his followers resurfaced. "He's right. The Champion isn't here."

Scowling, the mage turned and walked away. But not towards the Gallows. Instead, he started to make his way to the city gates. "Follow me," he commanded. "She's fled the city."

The chill of the night finally set in his bones as the metal chainmail pressed against his skin had turned bitterly cold. But she seemed unfazed, even with her tattered rags she called clothing. Both of them has been trudging through the grasslands for so long, he had lost track of time. However, they were so accustomed to walking for long distances, that it did not irk him to any large degree. He did, though, doubt her sense of direction.

"Are you sure that this is the right way?" Jacen finally asked.

Morrigan, who had clearly set her mind to this journey, did not stop to respond. "Yes," she replied, her voice disturbing the cool midnight air. "I have been planning this for a long time. 'Twould be foolish of me not to know the way."

Jacen nodded in acknowledgement of her correctness, and continued to walk.

He had never been to Kirkwall, he thought. He wondered what it would be like; if the walls would be like Denerim's or if the streets would be as bustling. He wondered what it would smell like, if the rustic smell of Denerim would be present so far north. He wondered what the people were like, if the class divisions would be so apparent like they were in nearly all of Ferelden. And perhaps most of all, he wondered why they were going to see this Orsino man. Jacen had never heard of him in all of his travels, but, then again, he was frequently treated as some kind of puppet because of his status as "the Hero of Ferelden".

And, he wondered, why had Morrigan agreed to let him come? He knew she cared for him, but she was able to leave him once. So, deep in those cat eyes, there must have been another reason. He knew that she planned for him to find her with the Illuvian, or, at least, she had had a great inkling that he would find her. She must have thought about what would happen once he found her.

Jacen, perhaps more than anything, wanted to know what was floating around in that methodical mind of hers.

By then, her legs were straining and she was starting to sweat, but she knew that to stop put them at risk of being sighted. And she would not allow her baby sister, Bodahn, and Sandal, who had been with her for years, to be caught. She had already failed Carver, her mother, and Anders. To allow any more souls to perish because of her would be a travesty. So, even though she ached, and was tired, and felt like she had nothing, Kaira continued to run. Through the highest, and most well kept walls of the Hightown market, to the rusted pipes near the Blooming Rose, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her.

Kaira hoped, just as much as her hope that her weak state would not hinder Bethany and the others, that her faithful mabari reached Varric and Fenris unintercepted. She knew how odd a sight it would be for anyone if a full-gown, muscular, heavy-set mabari war hound came running at full speed past them. At least in Hightown, that is, where feral beasts were much less common, especially those of killer war dogs. She trusted him, though, he was fast and smart, but she hoped he would be able to meet back up with her after they had safely gotten out of the city.

They were merely minutes away from Lowtown, when she spotted a group of maybe four or five mages patrolling around the corner. "Wait," she whispered, as she held out her arm to stop the others. "There's a patrol."

Bethany and the others tried to get as far into the shadows as the architecture and their body size would allow them. "We can't stay in the open like this forever. We're sitting ducks if we do," she whispered anxiously.

Kaira frowned. It looked like they weren't moving anywhere any time soon. "I know. But there is no way around." She wanted to avoid open conflict as much as possible, as she understood the unwanted attention that would bring them.

Moments that felt like hours passed. Bethany finally spoke, "They aren't moving. We have to do something."

Kaira dreaded the risk they were taking, but she knew it was the best course of action. Pressing herself against the wall in preparation for a sneak attack, she took out her twin daggers from their small sheaths. Small droplets of the green posion laced on the blades dripped to the stone ground.

But then, out of nowhere, Sandal had manuevered out of Bodahn's protective grasp and walked into plain sight. Kaira, Bethany, and Sandal's eyes nearly popped out of their eyes from fear and surprise. "Sandal!" Kaira hissed, "Get back here, now! You're going to kill us all!"

Sandal returned her look of fear and anger with a blank stare and a broad-mouthed smile. "Enchantment!" He clapped, and laughed loudly. From her view point, Kaira could see the mages turn towards Sandal with looks of surprise. Most of them grinned.

Everyone but Sandal prepared for the worst.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of walking, Jacen could finally see the light that eminated from the city of Kirkwall. He figured Morrigan saw it too, as she had finally stopped and waited for him. His armor made loud clanking noises in the night air, and he realized how jealous he was of Morrigan because she had no need to wear the tank of a suit he had to wear day in and day out.

"We're here," she said quietly when he finally reached her. Some of her raven hair had fallen out from its usual bun, and he fought the urge to put it behind her ear. He knew that this was neither the time nor the place for such actions.

Jacen stretched. "Nonsense. We still have walking to do," he said in his conviction.

Morrigan merely shook her head. "No, we're taking a tunnel to Kirkwall," she replied. "In this strenuous task of walking you must have forgotten."

He frowned. "Apparently."

"No matter," Morrigan said, "the tunnel is right here." She motioned towards a large boulder.

Jacen laughed. "Under that?"

"Yes. And the activation of the Illuvian has drained me of much of my mana. I need you to move it," Morrigan said plainly.

He sighed. "I'll try." Jacen removed his heavy-plate gloves in order to get a better grip on the massive thing. Steadying himself, and posistioning his body at a good angle, Jacen pushed with all his might. At first, nothing happened, but then it broke loose with whatever had been holding it, and it careened off a few feet in front of him.

Morrigan gave a sly smile. "You're still strong, I see."

Jacen winked at her, trying his best to look appealing. "Still," he said.

She looked at him for another moment, then motioned towards the now apparent hold present in the ground. "Now, help me down."

"Enchantment!" Sandal cried happily once more. Kaira was fuming, but shaking slightly from nervousness. She certainly didn't feel like any sort of 'Champion'.

The mages laughed condescendingly, but appeared to not be prepared to give the boy any sort of leniancy. "Look a' him," a huskier one said, "he's some sorta freak."

A taller, spindly one glared at the husky one. "I wouldn't talk if I were you, Baravere. Just get rid of him."

The one named Baravere grunted. Had it not have been for Bethany's steadying hand, Bodahn would have been out there. If the mage just got a little closer, Kaira would have a good chance of reaching him on a jump...

But, then Sandal, with a small clap of his hands and another child-like giggle, caused a small ball of light to shoot out from his hands and fly in the air towards Baravere. He stared, unable to move, as it collided with his head and caused him to fall to the ground. The light then bounced off each of the other mages, each of which preceeded to fall to the ground. Kaira couldn't believe her eyes. She knew Sandal possessed enchantment capabilities, but not to a scale of full blown magic. She nearly kicked herself as she remembered the time in the deep roads where he froze an entire ogre solid. "Sandal," she said, exstaticly. "Good job!"

"Enchantment?" Sandal asked, seeming looking for praise.

Kaira smiled. "Yes, enchantment." Sandal nearly did a dance with joy.

Bodahn rushed over to Sandal's side. "That's my boy, Sandal!" He ruffled his dishwater blonde hair.

Bethany, meanwhile, checked the fallen mages. "I know these men," she said. "Baravere used to be very nice." She rolled them over, to check and see if they had a pulse. It was normal. "They're alive. I don't know what kind of spell that was, but thank the Maker Sandal used it." She stood up, and brushed the dirt off of her robes. "We better go. I don't know how long they will be out. Or what they will remember."

Kaira stopped. "You think they'll remember? That we'll be found out?"

Bethany nodded. "If not by them, then they'll find out for themselves that we're fleeing."

Her sister nodded and motioned for Bodahn and Sandal to come. "Then let's go."

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