Chapter Twenty-Nine: Merrill the Evil Blood Mage
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age 2.
"Seriously, what's going on?" Carver demanded as they neared the Dalish encampment.
"What makes you think that something's going on?" Emma asked, feigning innocence.
"You actually agreed to help Merrill with something," Carver pointed out. "No complaints, no insults, nothing."
"I'm not a terrible person, you know," Emma sniffed. "And I'm certainly not avoiding doing a favor for someone who doesn't deserve it."
Carver tactfully chose not to comment on that. "Do you even know what we're doing here?"
"Um…pick-pocketing the Keeper for some mirror-fixing device?" Emma guessed.
"We can't pick-pocket Keeper Marethari!" Merrill cried out, scandalized.
"So you're just going to ask her?" Emma asked, surprised. "Then what do you need all of us with you for?"
"Well…she'll probably make me 'prove myself' or something stupid so having you around to help kill things will be useful," Merrill replied.
"I had thought that the Dalish moved around a lot more frequently than this," Fenris spoke up.
Merrill nodded. "Oh, they do. Staying here for four years is just unheard of."
"And yet…it's happening," Fenris pointed out.
Merrill shrugged. "Don't ask me; I'm not a part of the clan anymore."
They approached Marethari very slowly considering how reluctant Merrill was to even get near her.
"You've returned to us!" Marethari said joyfully. "Does this mean you're done being stupid and ready to come back home? We're still waiting for you to do just that."
"No, it does not!" Merrill exclaimed. She turned to the group, "See, this is why I didn't want to come."
"Maybe if you came more often then she'd stop thinking this was why you were here," Varric suggested.
Merrill shook her head. "No, I could come twice a day and she'd still ask me every time I showed up."
"Then why are you here?" Marethari asked, crossing her arms and frowning in disapproval.
Merrill found herself unable to face that disapproval and so glanced at a spot over Marethari's left shoulder. "I seek the ancient carving blade."
"Merrill, why are you so eager to get possessed by a demon?" Marethari demanded.
"I'm not, I won't, and you can disapprove if you want but I have a right to it!" Merrill insisted.
"Dalish have a right to it in exchange for a task," Marethari corrected. "Not ungrateful city elves determined to bring doom upon us all."
Merrill's eyes widened. "City elves? How can you even say that, Keeper?"
"Well, there's the fact that you left our clan to go live in the slums," Marethari pointed out.
"Once a Dalish, always a Dalish!" Merrill cried out.
"Not really, no. Once you stop acting like a Dalish then you're kind of no longer a Dalish," Marethari told her. "And if you have human children then you're dead to me."
"We are not nearly there yet!" Carver exclaimed.
Marethari closed her eyes, pained. "Merrill…"
"Don't judge me!" Merrill ordered.
"Even though I do not have to do this since you're not a Dalish and I know that it will just bring ruin about us all if you succeed, I will still give you a task," Marethari said gravely.
"So naturally the task you give her will be an impossible one like 'get the viscount to grow a backbone' or 'get rid of the qunari', right?" Varric asked knowingly.
"Why that…that just wouldn't be fair, now would it?" Marethari asked, shocked.
"That's kind of the point," Varric murmured.
"No, no, we can't have that," Marethari insisted, shaking her head at the very thought. "There is a giant creature in the mountains who has killed three of our own. If you kill that and bring back proof of the deed then I will let you have the carving tool and thus enable your future demon possession and possibly the deaths of all of our clan."
"Thank you, Keeper," Merrill said grudgingly, still not looking at her.
They set off up the mountain, pointedly ignoring all the whispers and glares that followed them. Merrill was evidently not popular with her former clansmen and humans were never welcome among the Dalish, especially if they had one Dalish parent like Feynriel had. No wonder he set off for Tevinter.
"So…do we even know what we're looking for?" Aveline inquired.
"No but I'm sure once we find something sufficiently terrifying we'll know," Merrill said optimistically.
"Not for nothing, Merrill, but your kind regularly gets killed by 'giant' spiders smaller than we are," Emma pointed out.
"They're still giant compared to normal spiders," Isabela told her.
"Yeah, but they still don't really seem deserving of the moniker of 'giant' spiders," Emma replied.
"If we cannot find anything scarier than a giant spider after we've examined this whole area then this will have been easier than we expected and I'll to remember to be horribly offended at being coddled and given busywork," Merrill announced.
"Though let's try to do that after you get that mirror carver thing, okay?" Carver said, squeezing her hand. "We wouldn't want her to change her mind."
"She couldn't change her mind," Merrill assured him. "It would be dishonorable."
"But why risk it?" Carver asked. "And even if she doesn't change her mind, if you start an argument before you get it then you can't leave until she says you can. If you start one after you have it, you can leave whenever you please."
Merrill beamed at him. "You're so wise, Carver!"
Emma just rolled her eyes. "Only comparatively, Merrill. Only comparatively."
"Did you hear that?" Isabela asked. "I think someone's there."
"If anyone's there then it's safe to come out," Anders called. "Unless you're a templar or a giant spider or something in which case it's only fair to let you know that we're going to kill you on the spot. But in that case, you really can't hide from us so you might as well just face your fate and come out anyway."
Slowly, an elf stepped out from the shadows. "Praise Andraste! I mean, er, the Creators. Andraste the Creator?"
"I don't think that's quite right…" Merrill told him.
The man's eyes widened in horror. "Merrill? Get back!"
"Wow, these people really don't like you, do they?" Emma asked merrily.
"And to think the Keeper wants me to come back," Merrill muttered. "Calm down, Pol."
"Nope, sorry, can't listen, too overwhelmed by the sound of your evil blood magic, you evil blood mage!" Pol screamed, slowly backing away.
"Seriously, kid, maybe you should run away towards the direction of the exit, not back where you were just fleeing," Varric advised.
"You don't know what she's done!" Pol shouted.
"We probably do, actually," Anders corrected him. "And we hate her for it, don't worry. But it's still a bad idea to go back that way."
Carver glared at him. "Some of you hate her for it."
"True," Anders acknowledged, "but you hate mages so that doesn't count."
"I'm dating Merrill," Carver reminded him.
"Blood mages aren't real mages," Anders decided.
Emma nodded her head. "They're really not."
Pol took that opportunity to run back the way he'd come.
Emma rolled her eyes. "Not that I care if this idiot dies but he might have stumbled upon whatever it is we're supposed to be killing so let's go take a look."
They arrived just in time to watch Pol literally run into the giant creature and swiftly end up impaled.
"What a moron," Fenris said, not sympathetic in the slightest.
"Pol!" Merrill cried out, horrified.
"You're too good of a person," Isabela informed her.
"Okay fine," Emma conceded as the multi-story spider approached them. "I guess that does deserve to be called a giant spider."
"I still don't see why you couldn't have tried to heal him," Merrill complained as they made their way back to the camp.
"Because it would have been a waste of time," Anders explained. "He was run straight through and his heart was literally crushed."
"Would it have been any more of a waste of time than arguing with me over the body for twenty minutes was?" Merrill challenged.
"Well…probably not," Anders conceded. "But by that point it would have been a matter of enabling you and that's just not healthy."
"Hear that, Emma?" Carver called to her. "Anders doesn't think that enabling people is healthy."
"That's fascinating, it really is," Emma deadpanned.
Marethari looked up as they came nearer.
"Doesn't she ever do anything all day besides standing there? Don't any of these people do anything?" Emma wondered quietly.
"The giant spider is dead," Carver announced. "Please tell me that that was what we had to kill and not something else because that really took forever to bring down."
"Oh, thank the creators," Marethari said, hardly sounding enthused. "This is such a good thing."
"You really don't want to part with that carving tool, do you?" Aveline asked rhetorically.
"I don't know what you mean…" Marethari said, not looking at them.
"We lost Pol, you know," Merrill said, beginning to get angry. "We didn't have to. It was so senseless and wasteful. He had managed to escape but then he saw me and he ran back the way he came and was slaughtered. He was more scared of me than of the creature who didn't even stop when it killed him. What have you been telling people about me?"
"Nothing," Marethari replied, sighing heavily. "Nothing but the truth."
"And what truth is this?" Merrill demanded. "The truth that I'm somehow a monster?"
Marethari shook her head. "No, the truth that you're a blood mage consorting with a demon to fix a mirror that took two of our own from us and may yet bring back the corruption or get possessed and kill us all."
"Keeper!" Merrill cried out, appalled.
"I am the Keeper. It is my duty to warn them of the potential consequences. That they are terrified by you is your doing and not mine," Marethari claimed. "But I do not want you to think that the fact that everyone hates and fears you means that it is too late for you to give up this poisonous dream and come back to us."
"I rather think it is," Merrill said icily. "Where is my carving tool?"
Marethari sighed again and took a tool out of her pouch. "Here it is. Merrill-"
Merrill took the tool and then walked away, ignoring the Keeper calling after her.
"Are you seriously paying for your drinks in sovereign?" Emma couldn't believe it.
"That's right, friend, tonight I'm rich," the man at the bar said happily. "And all I had to do was turn my head."
"You're an idiot," Varric said, disgusted.
"What? Why?" the man asked, upset.
"Well, to begin with if you keep spending money like that then you're only going to be rich for tonight," Varric told him. "And then there's the fact that you were clearly bribed and you're practically bragging about it."
"I…no," the man denied.
"Aveline, it's time to actually make use of your position of Captain of the Guards," Carver informed her. "And maybe then, since Emma wont' just tell us what's going on, we can find out."
Aveline stepped over to her man and the other party members politely looked away while she worked him over.
"I commandeered his coin purse to add to the guard budget," Aveline announced when she was done, pocketing said pouch. "And he's so fired."
"Do you know who did it?" Isabela asked her.
Aveline shook his head. "No, he was stupid enough no to get a name. He was a templar, though, with the seal of the grand cleric."
"I knew it! The grand cleric is not to be trusted!" Anders crowed triumphantly, looking far happier about this than it made sense to be given what a bad thing it would be for mages if the grand cleric was as zealous as Meredith.
"I'm not so sure about that, Blondie," Varric prevaricated. "After all, I run into counterfeit seals all over the place and no one actually believes that anyone would do that so people barley look at the seal."
"So…what was he bribed to do?" Fenris wondered.
"Apparently there was a qunari delegation sent to the viscount and, on their way out, they were ambushed and kidnapped by templars while that sorry excuse for a guard pretended not to notice and lied to the viscount about it," Aveline explained. "And the viscount evidently already asked Emma to look into it three days ago."
"I was busy," Emma said unrepentantly.
Merrill's eyes widened. "Oh, this is all my fault! You were so busy helping me that-"
"Trust me," Carver cut her off. "None of this is your fault. It's my sister who didn't care about this diplomatic crisis that could get us all killed. I should have known when you agreed to help Merrill. In fact, I did know. I just never imagined that it could be something like this."
"Your mistake," Emma said coolly.
"So why didn't you do something?" Aveline demanded. "The viscount himself asked you to! Personally!"
"I don't like him," Emma replied. "He's kind of an ass."
"I feel sorry for him," Anders told her.
Emma drew back in surprise. "You do?"
Anders nodded. "Oh, yes. All that power and he can't use it because of the Chantry and the templars?"
"Not everything is about mages, Anders," Fenris said curtly.
"Everything in your world is, the same as mine," Anders retorted.
"Are you seriously taking the Captain of the Guard to accuse the Grand Cleric of conspiring to abduct qunari?" Aveline asked, pained.
"I'm hardly 'taking' you anywhere," Emma pointed out."You could have waited outside or gone home or whatever."
"Someone's got to keep an eye on you," Aveline replied.
"That's what I've got Carver and Varric for," Emma told her.
"That would be fine, Emma, except that Carver is a tit and do you have any idea what's in those 'books' that Varric keeps publishing?" Aveline demanded.
"I'm one of his best customers!" Emma bragged.
Aveline narrowed her eyes. "Then you should be aware that he's incorporated Guardsmen Donnic and I into his latest work of 'art'."
Emma looked suddenly sickened. "No offense, Varric, but I don't think that I can read your books anymore."
"She's...exaggerating," Varric claimed.
For once, the Grand Cleric wasn't in plain sight just standing around and letting the city go to pieces around her.
While they sent a messenger to summon her, Petrice approached them.
"Well, well, if it isn't Emma Hawke," she said, her voice dripping with distaste.
"You seem to really hate me, Sister Petrice," Emma noted, surprised. "Which, given that you're the one who screwed us over, really surprises me."
"It's Mother Petrice now," Petrice corrected. "Can't you see my fabulous mother robes?"
Emma shrugged. "Eh, I don't really keep up with the Chantry or its fashions."
"And it's nothing personal, I just hate everyone in the lower class and I especially hate people who scrape and cheat their way into a higher social order," Petrice sneered.
"My mother is Lady Amell," Emma pointed out.
"She married a mage so it doesn't count," Petrice claimed.
Carver rolled his eyes. "Oh, whatever. Are we to take that you're responsible for this outrageous and frankly idiotic qunari abduction?"
Petrice hesitated. "Define 'behind'."
"Is all of this your fault?" Carver demanded.
Petrice opened her mouth.
"If you ask me to define 'fault' then, by the Maker, I will let Anders kill you right now," Carver threatened.
Anders perked up at that.
Petrice coughed awkwardly. "That wasn't what I was going to say…"
"Tell us what's going on or we will take the matter up with the Grand Cleric," Isabela told her.
Petrice laughed. "Like you could even get in to see her."
"Someone who believes himself to be our friend is practically stalking her," Fenris informed her.
Petrice hissed. "Sebastian! Fine, well I don't want to get into any trouble for my actions so I will totally sell out my underling. Ser Varnell, the templar that was guarding me when we last met, is holding them hostage and I know exactly where."
"That's great," Varric said, nodding. "Let's just tell the viscount or have Aveline send in her guardsmen or-"
Petrice shook her head. "No, stupid plan."
"How is that a stupid plan?" Varric demanded.
"That runs the risk of getting them out of there alive," Petrice explained. " Meet me at this location and you'll see what's been going on." She handed them a map.
"Is there any point in asking why, exactly, you just happen to have a map to the qunari's location on you?" Emma inquired.
"No, not really," Petrice replied. Her eyes widened as she saw the Grand Cleric approaching them out of the corner of her eye. "Go, go, go!"
"If it weren't for the fact that we don't actually want to talk to the Grand Cleric we would just stay here, you know," Anders informed her. "But as it is…"
"I still don't see why any of this is my problem," Emma complained.
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