Part 7

Power

The weather could be beautiful when it wanted to be, Astlyr thought to herself as she and her company rode along. This was certainly an improvement over their last outing. The air was crisp, but not biting. The trees in The Emerald Graves still clung stubbornly to leaves as red and yellow as flames. The path they rode was partially obscured by crunching drifts of leaf-litter. The air smelled wonderful, she thought, recalling autumns at her childhood home. For a moment she could almost smell her mother's cooking wafting in on a breeze.

"It is pure luck that it isn't raining," Dorian had ridden up beside her. The mage had clearly taken in her expression of happiness and decided to pick on her. She was careful not to let him see her smile.

"Oh yes. You wait. We've gone a whole day and night without rain, which can only mean a snow storm is on its way for certain," she smirked.

"Don't be ridiculous," Iron Bull trotted his horse up to join them and Astlyr could practically feel the ground shake beneath the creature's massive hooves. "Hail. Hail is the only option after so much sun and pleasant breezes."

"Can't stand those breezes, myself," Varric could not resist the banter. "All this pleasantness turns my stomach."

Cassandra just shook her head at their antics. She was seldom one to join in with whatever tomfoolery the bunch got up to, but she was certainly not above enjoying it from a distance.

"Any second now one of the horses is going to tread on a wasp nest and we'll all be stung until no one can recognize us," Astlyr said, making a show of scanning the terrain for any sign of stinging insects.

"Ooo, good one," Varric nodded his approval.

Astlyr paused, glancing over her shoulder. Solas and his companion rode further back, conversing in low tones. She knew that the scholarly elf was never one to be overly silly, but like Cassandra he had been known to laugh at them, at the very least. Instead he barely looked up even as his mount tripped slightly on a concealed rock.

Astlyr gave Smoke's reins a gentle tug and the big horse slowed so her friends could ride on past her. She waited until Solas and Celwydd had reached her. They looked up as she joined them. "So, Solas, you were rather sparse on the details of your travels when we were in Skyhold. But now we have a few more hours ride under out belts. You've hardly spoken to us all day. Is anything the matter?"

Solas seemed to consider for a moment. "I am merely concerned about...my friend."

"The spirit we are going to help?" Astlyr asked.

"Yes."

"I see. Can you tell me anything about what we are going to face? Will there be mages, as there were when we tried to help your friend, Wisdom?"

"No," Solas shook his head. "The place we are going should be a quiet one, but my friend is trapped there. I need your help to free him."

"What can I do?" she cocked her head, "I hate to say this, but hitting people and objects with my sword is basically where my expertise begins and ends. I'm not certain how I can help you if there is no one to fight."

"May I see your hand," Solas asked, holding out his own.

She guessed what he meant. With her teeth she tugged off the glove on her left hand and held it out to him. He took it, scrutinizing as best he could while on a moving horse. As he did so a memory came to her. She stood against a tear in the veil. Around her strangers watched, expectant, but she did not know what she was supposed to do. She only knew the pain on her palm seared her, coursing down the veins in her wrist and towards her heart. Then a hand had grabbed her wrist and held her hand upwards towards the tear. The elf. The apostate. He was helping her. His gesture, however minor, had been enough. Now she looked across at that same elf, only there was something changed about him. She could not put her finger on it. Certainly he was quieter. The Solas she knew would not have ridden so far back. He might have engaged in a lively debate with Varric or Dorian. He might have speculated about the wolf statues they passed. Something.

"I can sense that it is still bound to your soul," he muttered, almost too quiet for her to hear.

"The anchor?" she asked, taking her hand back and looking at the dormant mark. "If you say so. It certainly seems to behave the same as it ever did."

"Hmmm, indeed," Solas answered, considering.

Astlyr glanced up and had the misfortune of meeting Celwydd's cold gaze. The slim elf was downright unnerving. He seemed to be able to see through her armor and flesh to her bones, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he was mentally dissecting her. Her skin crawled and she looked down again.

"I never asked you," Solas was speaking, his tone taking on a more conversational note. More like his old self. "What were you doing in the Temple of Sacred Ashes when the breach was formed? A qunari woman happens to wander in right as a deadly ritual is being performed? Rather unusual, wouldn't you agree?"

Astlyr considered for a moment. This was true. In fact, no one seemed eager to ask her about her what has brought her to the temple. Everyone assumed fate or the Maker were involved, and happily left the topic alone. "It was dumb luck," she shrugged. Her other friends had slowed their mounts as well, to hear. "Which is what I keep telling people if they would ever listen," she said wryly. "As I recall it was snowing pretty badly. I had been traveling alone in the mountains for some days. I was cold, hungry and lost. I had used up all the money from my last job, but I had heard that the followers of the Maker could be soft. They'd likely give me food, so when I saw their temple, in I went."

"That's it? You were going to beg?" Solas asked, eyebrows raised.

"Well, you don't need to say it like that," Astlyr said, "I was going to...ask for food. Inside it was cold and empty and I thought no one was around, but then I heard voices in the inner chamber. I started in that direction and I heard a cry for help. So, as Cole would say, I helped."

"And look where it got you," Varric snarked.

"I know," Astlyr gave him a playful grin, "teach me to help people."

"So it really was luck?" Dorian asked.

"Divine luck," Cassandra pointed out. "I had my doubts about Astlyr being the Herald of Andraste, but I can still see how the Maker might have brought her to that temple at exactly the right time."

Astlyr tried not to let anyone see her roll her eyes. Though she didn't hear it much any more, she was still royally sick of the title of Herald. Inquisitor was better by far.

"The place is not far now," Solas spoke, urging his horse to trot. The others did the same, following him. Astlyr felt a cold rush come over her as they went. As though the air had turned from balmy to chill. She ignored it, focusing on the area around her for possible signs of danger. They were moving into a deepening gully with walls of jagged rock on either side. It was fast becoming a canyon, and was growing narrow. She wondered how long they could remain on their horses as her toes touched the walls.

Ahead Solas called something, though she could not make out what. In a moment she saw, as the narrow pathway opened up into a valley, surrounded on all sides by high rock walls. In the center of the area stood stood an odd structure. At first it appeared to be a tall mound of tiny stones, almost matching her in height. As they drew nearer she saw that each, smooth, oval stone was about the size of her palm and was intricately placed. There were thousands, maybe more, and they formed a sort of enclosure with an entrance as tall as Solas. She marveled how the thing managed to stand. She was no builder, but she could tell the construction was painstaking. She wondered how long it had been there. It would have made a lousy shelter, she thought as she studied it. It was about the right size for an elf, or a short human to stand inside, but not much else. No room to sit, and she imagined a really strong wing might even topple it. At the doorway to the structure sat a larger stone with an indentations in its surface. Cradled in this indentation was something she had seen before. She dismounted and drew nearer. "Is that...?"

"The orb?" Cassandra recognized it as well. Soon everyone had climbed down from their mounts and was eying the strange archway.

"What remains of it," said Solas, suddenly looking sad. Not as she had seen him when the orb had first been broken, but still distraught. Before she could reach out, or offer reassurance, Celwydd was there, placing a hand on Solas' shoulders and muttering to him. Astlyr felt her skin go clammy. Her warrior's instinct, or perhaps a sense that ran deeper still, was pricking at her mind. Perhaps it was this place. High stone walls looming above. She could make out a few trees with roots probing experimentally downward at the top of the cliffs. This would be a bad place to be ambushed. Archers could appear overhead and she and her men could be wounded or worse in seconds. Her hand strayed to her shield without her notice.

"I don't like this," Iron Bull spoke in her ear. At least he had the same feeling, she thought with a dark sense of certainty. Perhaps she wasn't insane.

Astlyr turned to the horses, who stood in a bunch behind the group. "I'll send them out," she said, keeping her voice level. She moved over to Smoke and tugged a red strip of cloth that was hidden under a leather fold on his saddle so it was hanging visible. Then, keeping her body between Solas and the red cloth, she moved the horse around and gave him a quick slap on the rump, "Go, Smoke. Get clear," she shouted.

Doing as he was trained the horse turned and darted back out the way they had come. The other mounts followed him willingly. Astlyr caught Cassandra's eye and nodded fractionally. The red cloth was a quick and easy call for help. The horse would wait outside the canyon, trained to stay clear when ordered to to keep him safe during battles. At a special whistle from Astlyr Smoke would return to Skyhold and Cullen would see the cloth, then mobilize his men to the Emerald Graves. A pity there was no easy way to tell him exactly where she was, but Cullen had a lot of soldiers.

She turned back to the two elves. "So..." she asked, rocking back on her heels slightly, still eying the cliff-tops. "What is this stone thingy?"

"It is a magical trap, of sorts," Solas explained. "My friend is inside. When I came upon it, it was in grave disrepair, but Celwydd has gone to great pains to ensure that every stone is in its proper place. Now all we need is you."

"And I can help how?" Astlyr questioned, watching out of the corner of her eye as the rest of her team got into a rough formation, just to be safe.

"We need the anchor," Solas nodded towards her hand, his expression grim. There was a tight set to his lips. Determination? Fear?

"The anchor only opens rifts to the Fade," Astlyr pulled off both her gloves and tucked them into her belt. Then she looked at her palm, the green mark still dormant.

"It is more than that," Solas said, and a little of his old self seemed to return. An eagerness for knowledge that she recognized. "The anchor can be many things if wielded properly."

Astlyr frowned, still uncertain what he was driving at. "Are you going to have me open a fade rift inside this stone thing?"

Solas waved away her words and smiled thinly, "No, no. You need not open a rift at all. Your mark reacts to, and controls aspects of the Fade, this is true. But it can also be used for other purposes. All we need of you is that you press your hand to the stones, just there." He indicated a spot with a gesture.

"Press my hand to the stones and what?" Astlyr stepped forward, cautiously. She raised her palm towards the object, awaiting a reaction, but nothing happened.

"I will facilitate the rest," Solas smiled encouragingly at her. That smile, which reached his eyes, caught her and made her remember the elf who had been her friend. The man who had stood beside her in almost every adventure. Who had entered the Fade with her. Who had walked with her in dreams when her spirit might have lost its way. Though she felt a tightness in her chest she nodded. Solas kept smiling warmly, gesturing that she should place her hand on the top of the door-frame, which for her was shoulder height. This she did, though carefully, so as not to knock anything out of place. She could feel Calwydd's cold eyes watching her every move.

Nothing happened. The many oval rocks were cool to the touch, but it did not so much as make her hand prickle. Then Solas stepped up beside her with his graceful stride. He raised his slim hands, magic bursting to life in them. A few artful motions sent the magic surging towards her. The white light collided with her hand where it rested and now she did feel something. A kind of tugging deep in her chest. The pull of energies up her arm and into her palm. It was an odd sensation. Like waves receding from shore. It wasn't painful, but certainly strange.

Solas spoke quietly as he channeled his magic to her. "The anchor mark may be on your hand, but the magic itself runs much deeper. The moment it was given to you, the anchor wrapped itself around every part of you. It is bound to you, heart, lungs, brain, everything. This is why Corypheus could not take it from you. He could never separate what was you and what was the anchor." he paused a moment, concentrating.

Astlyr could sense rather than see her team's unease as they stood back, watching. They must have been really nervous, she realized. None of them were making snarky comments. Solas continued, a little breathlessly, "I do not believe an ordinary person could wield the anchor. It would take one of great physical or mental fortitude."

"I've got the physical part down," Astlyr said, watching as the white magic over her hand began to mix with green. She wasn't certain where the emerald strands were coming from until she realized, they were emanating from her. "This may be the closest I'll ever come to casting a spell," she mused aloud, more to reassure her people that she was alright than anything.

"Perhaps," Solas chuckled.

As Astlyr watched the white and green light from their hands traveled down to the strange doorway. It followed paths between the little stones like water trickling downward. Astlyr spared a sideways glance at Solas. His face was bright, eager, though sweat was visible on his brow. "Are you alright?" she asked, quiet enough so that only he would hear.

He gave her a quick smile before his face returned to a look of concentration, "this is less than ideal. The orb would have been..." he seemed to catch himself and fell silent.

Astlyr watched as their joined magics coated the structure and it cascaded over the doorway like a glittering waterfall. She gaped, fascinated as a cat, when the colors blurred, blended, and separated again, forming a sort of curtain before the door. Then a shape became visible behind it. Much shorter than she, and slender. Elvish, she guessed as she watched the figure turn and thought she caught sight of the outline of a pointed ear. She could not make out features, only the shape, which appeared to be male. The man had come to stand directly before her, separated only by the curtain of tumbling magic. Astlyr wasn't certain she liked the way the shadow man seemed to stare at her, even thought she could not see his eyes. "Is that your friend?" she asked Solas.

"It is!" Solas' voice was strained, but excited.

Astlyr could feel the energy really starting to pull from her now. Surging towards her hand and out into the object she touched. Solas was obviously struggling to match it with his own magic. She felt as though she had just gone for a run. Her muscles protested faintly and she was panting. "How much longer?" she asked.

"To be honest with you, I am not certain. I've never done this before," Solas admitted. "Perhaps if you focused your mind on the task at hand?"

Astlyr tried to clear her thoughts and focus, as Solas had suggested. She found this surprisingly difficult. They ran and mingled like the magic before her eyes. One moment she was remembering running through a grassy field with her old dog, Dash. The next she was freezing and alone in the rubble of Haven, desperately searching for her new friends. Then she was chattering loudly with a lively merc band she had led for a few months before she had found her way to the fateful Temple of Sacred Ashes.

She was starting to feel more like she had just gone a through a rigorous workout. The strain must have been obvious to her companions. "You good, Kadan?" Iron Bull asked.

"Yeah," Astlyr answered, but she sounded breathier than she expected. She tried to clear her mind. It was growing more difficult, and suddenly images were forcefully invading. Like daydreams only she could not shake them. Her mind kept drifting towards memories of herself at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The Divine reaching towards her in the Fade. The moment when the woman's hand had met hers. And then pain exploded up her arm and into her chest. She yelled, reared back, but she could not take her hand from the stones. She heard Solas gasp as well and then green and white light engulfed them both. It may have been for mere seconds, but it felt far too long to bear. Astlyr was finally thrown back onto her ass. She sat blinking and cradling her arm, which still throbbed the way it often did after she closed a rift.

Her friends surrounded her in seconds, hands reaching to help her up. Cassandra in front of her with shield ready. Astlyr stumbled to her feet, Her movements were clumsy, her muscles burned with weariness. She did her best to reassure her companions, "I'm alright. I'm fine. Well...that was an experience."

"Did it work?" Dorian asked.

All around the stone structure a hazy purplish fog hovered, obscuring both the object and the elves who had stood beside it. Astlyr waved away a tendril as he crept towards her. "Solas?" she called, urgently.

Then there was the sound of laughter, and it was at once foreign and familiar. It was not the sound of her friend, that was certain. The fog slowly cleared, creeping to earth and seeming to slink away like a living thing. Astlyr's friends moved to avoid letting it touch them. Finally she could see Solas, as well as Celwydd. Another figure stood with them, having seemingly stepped from the stone doorway. An elvish man in ornate clothes. His hair was golden and it shimmered with an unnatural light. He turned to the group, eyes flashing. Astlyr could feel a power in his look alone.

Then she realized, it was Solas who was laughing. Only it wasn't him. Wasn't his voice at all. When he looked at her there was something very different in his eyes. It took her a moment to place it, even as she grappled for her sword with a clumsy hand. They were a dragon's eyes, and his laughter was that of a dragon. She was not certain how she knew, but she knew. Unequivocally.

Solas stopped his unnerving laughter and fixed his alien eyes on her. Astlyr shuddered. Though the man before her had Solas' face, there was suddenly very little of her old friend about him. She hesitated. Part of her mind still tugged, trying to assure her that the elf she knew would never let anything bad happen to them. But The Maker knew what had happened to him on his journey's after he had so abruptly abandoned her. Was he possessed? Being controlled by something other? Her lips parted to speak, but her voice caught in her throat as the man they had freed flexed his shoulders and neck, like an athlete about to compete, and then transformed.

Had Astlyr not witnessed a woman transforming into a dragon once before she might have been more shocked. As it was, the situation was going from confusing to bad in an alarmingly short span of time. The man she had helped to free transformed with a burst of smoke and magic which knocked Astlyr and her people back against one of the craggy stone walls of the valley. Overhead storm clouds rolled in with an unnatural speed. They roiled over and over in their hurry to blot out the sun. Lightning crackled across the dark mass of the sky as Astlyr pulled her shield into place and faced down the creature that stood before them.

It was not quite dragon, though certainly large enough to be mistaken for one. In point of fact it was even more massive than most dragons she had seen. It was all rippling muscle beneath silver-black scales. Small eyes peered from a huge head, with an impressive lower jaw which looked like it could easily chomp an aged oak tree in half with one bite. The beast seemed to consider for a moment, then swung its head around on its short, sinewy neck to study the qunari and her people.

"This does not look good," Varric spoke for them all as he aimed Bianca, awaiting instruction.

"It does not," Astlyr agreed. "Dragon formation," she ordered curtly. She shot a glance towards the valley's only exit. They could make a break for it. She didn't like the idea of fighting this thing in such close quarters. Not at all. She saw Solas and his fellow elf making their way towards the point of egress. They strode calmly. Solas had not even drawn his staff. Astlyr gripped her sword hilt tighter, fighting the urge to call out to her friend. Clearly whatever the giant creature was (demon perhaps) it was exerting control over the scholarly elf. Inwardly she cursed herself for not recognizing any signs of his now obvious possession.

She signaled to her people with a quick nod of her head, indicating that they should move their formation towards the pathway out of the valley. The moment they did so, the monster attacked.

Claws the size of Astlyr's forearm raked the earth in front of her, churning up dirt and rock. She barely managed to dodge, turning her clumsiness into a fresh action. She spun, swinging shield edge and sword, striking the massive limb. Her attack left a shallow wound in the scaled flesh, but certainly no more than a paper cut to the beast that towered over them. Fighting was difficult in the confined space. The creature took up almost all of the valley. Its tail and hind legs had already reduced the intricate stone structure to rubble. It was clearly intelligent, as it pivoted the fight so that she and her men were forced further from the exit. It clawed and bit at them as they struggled to find ways to combat it.

"Varric, focus on its eyes!" Astlyr shouted as she and Cassandra prepared to charge at a leg with their shields. She hesitated a moment to put her finger and thumb into her mouth and blew two sharp whistles. This was Smoke's signal to run for help. It was clear to her that this monster was not going to let them pass.

Dorian attempted to root the creature to the earth with a blast of ice magic to a limb, but it barely wrapped around and was easily shaken off. Iron Bull worked on the opposite foreleg from Astlyr and Cassandra, smashing with his maul. He was doing an effective job of distracting the monster, but little else.

Varric had found himself a rock to hide behind while he took careful aim at the mammoth head. Astlyr saw the motion of his bolt letting fly as she and Cas struggled not to be crushed underfoot. Already Astlyr head been knocked down and a claw had slashed her leg. Her thigh was streaming with warm blood, but she little noticed. In battle she found she could often ignore wounds. Perhaps a trait of her Qunari nature.

Varric's first bolt missed by a narrow margin, glancing off the creature's cheekbone. It gave a snort which almost blew Dorian off his feet as he lobbed a fireball at it. His fireball went off course and narrowly missed Iron Bull. The warrior snarled as he continued his assault, "Can we please not kill me with friendly fire right now? I'm a little busy!"

"Sorry," Dorian shouted, though he was already focusing on his next spell.

"Varric!" Cassandra shouted as the foot came down and knocked her to one side. She struggled to stand as the talon reached for her. "Shoot it please!"

Astlyr moved to aid Cassandra, though she felt sluggish. The magic from before had left her drained. She was not up to her usual fighting form. She cursed repeatedly and loudly. Varric shot more bolts. A rapid-fire spray. This time a bolt found its home in the creature's eye. The roar the monster let out was so loud that the fighters had to clamp hands over their ears. The earth shook with it. Then the creature struck out with the limb that Cas and Astlyr had been trying to hold at bay, and swatted Varric aside, completely destroying the rock he had been hiding behind. The dwarf was thrown several feet and landed hard. Then he lay still.

"Varric!" Cassandra moved first, ignoring the wounds she had already sustained she made a run for the dwarf.

"Cas! Stay in formation!" Astlyr yelled, but to no avail.

The beast brought its foot down on the warrior woman. She blocked upwards with her shield but the monster needed only to apply a little of its weight to press her to earth. She gave a desperate cry, slashing wildly at the pad of the monster's foot with her blade. Astlyr rushed to her aid, but there was little she could do but add her own blade to the ineffectual stabs. Dorian opened up with his magic. Astlyr felt the cold and heat of his spells blasting past either side of her head, and she could only trust that he would not take off her ear.

Cassandra was well and truly pinned, and the creature was pressing down. Astlyr watched in horror as her friend's eye grew wide and a small gout of blood bubbled from between her lips. Astlyr gave her own roar of anger and drove her sword into the beast's flesh with as much force as she could muster, which was considerable. This seemed to do the trick as the creature lifted its leg, though it took her sword with it. Then it swung the wounded limb and slammed Astlyr back against the stone wall. She felt her armor bend with the force and then it was difficult to breath as the metal compacted against her chest. "Bull!" She coughed as she struggled to get a good breath, tugging at the buckles of her breastplate to free herself from it.

Iron Bull was there in moments, and attacking with a wild ferocity she had not seen before. For someone to impressive of size, he moved quickly. His blows would have pulped a human's entire body. His maul left deep and bleeding gouges in the thick flesh of the monster. He voiced his war cry with what Astlyr could almost imagine was a kind of glee. Impossible battles were just his speed. Then, even as she watched, throwing her badly dented breastplate from herself, the creature reached down and grabbed Iron Bull in its mouth.

"No!" Astlry screamed. She charged again, though she kept her eyes up on her lover where he was trapped in the beast's enormous teeth. The creature bit down, even as Bull smashed at its face with his maul. Astlyr heard a sickening crunch and Iron Bull went limp. "Bull!" she cried, her voice breaking as he tumbled from the monster's jaws and hit the ground with a thud that made her insides twist. She knew she could not make a run for him. She had the monster's focus for the moment. "Dorian!" she shouted, making a dash herself for Cassandra, and the woman's sword.

With the last two prey going in opposite directions the monster seemed uncertain for a moment. It shifted its massive limbs, obviously in pain from the numerous wounds that had been inflicted upon it. It did not bother to attempt to claw the arrow from its eye. Instead it seemed to make a decision and went for Dorian. Astlyr realized this and made a hasty choice. Go for a sword or try to reach her mage friend? She placed herself, and her shield, between the creature's slow, but deadly attack. She felt the shield give as if it were paper and her arm shatter beneath it. This was a bit more troubling than the thigh wound, she realized as her arm went limp. Pain seared up to her shoulder and she suddenly had to fight hard not to vomit. She let the shield slip from her useless limb and then struggled to get what remained of it onto her other arm.

Dorian shot spell after spell at the beast, but she could tell he was running out of mana as well as strength. She could see a bleeding wound on his forehead she had not noticed. Likely cause by flying rocky debris as the creature tore up the earth. He met her eyes in that moment. His look was a question. Would they stay with their unconscious or dead friends? Would they attempt to win the unwindable? Or should they try to make for the exit? Perhaps, if they both chose different routs one of them might live.

Astlyr moved closer to him, once again placing herself between the creature and the mage. She could hear his ragged breathing behind her. "So..." he panted, "Blaze of glory then?"

"Looks that way," she said between gritted teeth. Her vision had gone red. The last blood-rage of Astlyr Adaar, she thought bitterly as the monster struck at them with a claw, and then snapped with its jaws. It grabbed Astlyr's shield in its maw and jerked. Luckily the straps had been loosened when she had let it fall from her broken arm, or her other limb would have been ripped from her body. As it was she felt a pop that might have been dislocation as her shield was torn free.

She gritted her teeth as the claws came in again. Dorian used ice to try to slow the blow. He succeeded, but it was not enough. Both of them were knocked back against the stones. Astlyr felt her mind sink towards unconsciousness, but she fought it, forcing her eyes to focus. The claws had missed her for the most part, leaving two deep grooves on either side of her legs. She heard Dorian moan and turned to see a claw had struck him, leaving an ugly wound from chest to hip. Like her he was clinging doggedly to consciousness. He met her eyes with his dark ones and what she saw there she had not expected. A look of wild ferocity, like the one she knew shone in her own eyes. The desire, the drive, to win the unwindable. He reached towards her and she grabbed his hand as best she could with her ruined limb. "I'm sorry," she mouthed, unable to get the air into her lungs to speak.

He gave his head a small but determined shake, not taking his gaze from hers. It was clear he had decided he wanted his last view to be the face of his friend rather than the creature that would kill them. She felt his bloody fingers tighten around hers. Green light exploded from their clasped hands and Astlyr was nearly blinded. Her muzzy mind thought, Oh good. The demon breaths veil-fire. Just what we needed.

The green light began to form a dome over the two of them. Dorian, obviously as confused as she, raised his free hand and the bubble of magic that covered them grew larger. He was clearly trying to concentrate, then made and fist with his upraised hand, and spread his fingers in a quick gesture. The green barrier exploded outwards smashing into the monster with amazing forced. It crushed the creature against the opposite wall and Astlyr heard its roar of agony.

Her world was getting fuzzy around the edges. A white mist creeping in. She felt her hand slip from Dorian's and she turned her head (about the only part of her she had control over) to see that he had passed out, but now a green strand of magic, like the one that would form from her to a rift when she closed it, arched from her palm to Dorian's. It fizzled and jumped weakly, but it was still there. She turned her weary gaze back to seek the monster which had been crushed against the valley wall, but it was gone. Her mind did not have to to ponder what might have happened to it as she finally fell into the abyss of unconsciousness.

*****Uh oh. I warned you all that I like to beat up on characters, and now everyone is looking pretty grim! Did that giant monster kill anyone?! Best tune in next week to find out! Same DA time same DA channel!

As always, I love comments (they feed my enormous ego) and also can help point out any errors, etc.
As you may have noticed I have begun stretching and expanding the lore a bit. While I will try to remain mostly true to the canon the games give us (I have not read the books, so if I miss a detail from a book please do not hesitate to tell me). However, I will tweak a few things, and will expand on what the games give us from my own imagination. Which, I suspect, is partly why your tune in!

Thanks for reading!
Next chapter: 1/29/15