The two Fereldan's entered the tavern, looking for the smart dwarf. They saw Fenris sitting in a corner, running a polishing cloth over his sword, glaring at anyone who came too close.
"Fenris! Where is Varric?"
"Hawke," he nodded in greeting. "The dwarf had to leave. Apparently his snake of a brother needed his services and departed immediately."
"Brilliant. I don't want to do this short-handed..."
"Bethany seemed more than eager-" Aveline started.
"No! Just... No. I know she's more than capable, but... I have my reasons." The haunted look still clung to the edges of the rogue's face.
At that moment, a copper-skinned woman sauntered over to their corner. "I couldn't help but hear that you need help with a job?" She smirked knowingly, placing her hands on her hips and thrusting her chest out slightly. Hawke avoided looking at the Rivaini's face, feeling heat creeping up the back of her neck.
"Are you here to embarrass Hawke further?"
Isabela donned a look of mocked shock. "Embarrass? Me? No. You've got it all wrong, Big Girl. I'm here to try and find a way to earn a night with those nimble hands. I've seen what she can do in combat, and now I simply have to know what she can do between the sheets." She looked her target up and down. Fenris coughed awkwardly, still uncomfortable with the pirate's blatant advances that she tossed everywhere.
"If you're so desperate to butt into my business, Isabela, then come along. Merrill and Beth are out, and I don't want to hear Anders pissing and moaning about how rude we were to him last night."
"Oh, this is going to be fun."
"Come on, we've got to get to Hightown, and we're wasting time. Besides, the smell in here is doing nothing for my stomach." She turned and left without another word, leaving her companions to follow.
They met the merchant at his stall. He was everything you'd expect of an Orlesian businessman: superior, condescending, shrewd and always looking for the most coin. Yet, Hawke could tell that he was the sort of man to make good on his deals, just as Varric had said.
Apparently there had been some incident that caused his men to flee his mine. He wanted someone to investigate and take care of the issue. He promised good coin, and that was enough for Hawke. She promised Hubert she would do all she could as long as he paid.
The journey to the Bone Pit was not a short one. They made their way through the crowded city and along the mine paths. Hubert's mine was near the top of a mountain, and the heat that day was brutal. When they reached the summit, they stopped to take a breather. Aveline passed around a water skin she always had with her; Isabela complained that there wasn't any alcohol in it.
They made it to the main landing, only to discover a group of looters taking advantage of the abandoned goods. The four of them charged in, destroying the group of ne'er-do-wells. After looting the bodies, they explored the area, looking for any clues as to what might have happened.
Fenris was near the entrance to one of the mining tunnels when he called them over. "It smells like death in there. I'm sure this is where the trouble is happening."
"Oh, so we're going to charge into the dark hole that 'smells like death!' You're not seriously going to do that, are you, Hawke?" Isabela looked to her.
"Yep. We promised Hubert. Let's go, and everyone be on your guard."
"If I die in there, I'm going to come back and haunt you!"
They all took a sigh of relief as they stepped into the cool, damp cavern, Aveline especially, because she was fully decked out in her plate armor. They didn't get too far in before winged, lizard-like creatures roughly the size of a mabari approached them, hissing nastily. The smell of sulfur clung to the air.
"Dragons?" Aveline breathed, drawing her sword.
"Balls," Isabela grumbled.
The supposed-to-be-extinct myths advanced when another dragon, twice the size of its companions, came charging in. Fenris let out a startling bellow, his skin illuminating with lyrium-fueled power, and ran full-tilt to the large dragon. Aveline and Hawke made themselves busy with the dragonlings, blocking and dodging the snapping jaws of the little things. They were quick, and their long, thin necks made them incredibly nimble.
Isabela stayed mostly behind the big dragon, teasing and confusing it so that it wouldn't focus all of its energy, and fire, on the elf in front of it. Fenris managed to land a hefty blow to its jaw, but it earned him a hard swipe from the enraged dragon. He fell to the side, his sword landing near him.
Hawke saw that the creature was about to strike at her felled warrior, and deftly drew her boot knife, throwing it into the dragon's eye. Blinded and howling in pain, it began thrashing about, causing Isabela to back off, worried she was going to get hit by its tail. She left to help the two women finish off the little dragons while Fenris recovered.
They were finally free to converge entirely on their angry foe. Aveline and Fenris both decided to deflect the major blows and herd the beast into the open. There, Hawke and Isabela flanked it, both sending one of their daggers into its legs, crippling it. The Fereldan rogue screamed leapt onto its scaly back, wrapping her arm around its slippery neck, sinking her remaining dagger through the dragon's throat, killing it at last.
"Maker's balls, Hawke! Those were fucking dragons!" The pirate pulled her weapon from the stilled body, looking more than a little shaken.
Aveline and Hawke laughed, both of them having witnessed the Witch of the Wilds turn into a high dragon right before their eyes. Seeing the little ones before them was surprising to be sure, but not enough to shock them. Fenris maintained his usual impassive expression.
"Are you hurt? That dragon really tossed you."
"I'll be fine. I might have a cracked rib, but nothing that won't heal on its own."
"I bet Anders could heal that for you," Isabela offered, knowing how much he despised the mage.
"Bela, don't. Let's move on, this can't be the last of them."
They delved further into the mine, encountering many corpses of the miners and more of the ancient beasts of varying sizes. These battles went much faster, now that they knew how to fight and kill them. Hawke was beginning to seriously consider demanding far more money than Hubert had promised, considering that she was dispatching dragons for him.
They were moving into the next section when one of the miners, scared, sweaty and about to piss his trousers ran up to them. "Praise Andraste you came along! Them dragons would've sniffed me out for certain!" He panted, wild-eyed.
"Slow down, tell me what happened here," Hawke said gently.
"I'll tell you what I can, but be a friend and keep your voice down!" The man glanced nervously over his shoulder. "There's another dragon close by!"
"Where did the dragons come from?"
"We was mining a new tunnel, when the wall collapsed, and dragons came through! It was a bloody slaughter! Scared out of my wits, I ran like my arse was on fire! It probably was... Only, I went the wrong way and ended up trapped here!"
"You should get out of here," Hawke said, worried that questioning him further would push him over the edge.
"You don't have to tell me twice," he said, relief creeping over his face. "You should leave too, but don't go that way!" He motioned in the direction they were originally headed. "There's this huge dragon!" He broke into a run, leaving them behind.
"We're going toward the huge dragon, aren't we?" Isabela asked without a trace of humor in her voice.
"We have to. If we wait for reinforcements, this thing could do more damage, or worse, it could go to Kirkwall."
"Let it, then! The bloody city could use a makeover!"
"Oh, but Isabela, think of how you could use your reputation as a dragon-slayer to your advantage! Think of all the people you could dupe, the coin you could make, the sex you could have!" Hawke was blatantly appealing to the pirate's underworld nature. As she knew it would, it worked. The woman consented but continued to grumble profanities under her breath.
They emerged from the tunnel onto a large ledge that looked down into the valley that the mine overlooked. The view would have been nice to look at, were it not for the massive dragon swooping down on them, belching fire into the air. The miner had not been exaggerating; they were staring down a fully mature dragon, and it was incredibly angry.
They all drew their weapons, trying to convince themselves that they were ready for the battle that they were about to face. The dragon was vicious, swift and continued to try and turn Hawke and her fellows into burnt crisps. They were able to injure it, but those only seemed to make it more agitated and more deadly.
Isabela continued to go for its legs, hoping to cripple it. Aveline was jumping in front of companions, deflecting spurts of flame with her shield. She thanked the Maker that she had a fire resistance rune folded into the metal, meaning that it wouldn't heat up and melt under the dragon's deadliest weapon.
Hawke simply made herself a moving target, running around, shouting and basically trying to confuse it while she left the task of wounding the thing to Fenris and Isabela.
But Hawke was tired. Her head was throbbing, and she was sore from the earlier battles. She was slowing down and failed to notice it. The dragon, on the other hand, did not. It swooped down, snatching the rogue up in its jaws and shook its ugly head violently, thrashing her body to and fro before casting her motionless, bloody form to the side.
"HAWKE!" the three comrades screamed in unison. There was no time to see if she was even alive. The dragon had to die first. Aveline took out a hidden knife threw it into the beast. Fenris sent a combustion grenade flying into its face, exploding and mangling it. While it was disoriented, Isabela slid under the great belly and sliced it open, blood pouring out profusely.
The creature howled in pain, and Fenris took the opportunity leap upon the thing, shimmy up its lengthy neck, and reach into its skull, using the powers of his tattoos, and ended the dragon's life.
Aveline was the first to Hawke's side, turning her onto her back. Large puncture wounds were gushing blood, and her face was deathly pale. "I feel a pulse, but it's thready and weak!"
"Here," Isabela roughly uncorked a healing potion. "This will stop the bleeding." She poured the red liquid into Hawke's mouth, holding her head so it wouldn't run into her lungs. "Go ahead of me, warn Anders to be ready. Fenris, get Bethany and meet us at the clinic. I'll carry her myself." Aveline looked about to protest, but the pirate cut her off. "I'll run faster with her because I have very light armor! Now GO!"
The two warriors took off without a second glance. The potion was doing its job as Isabela watched the wounds clot before her eyes. She downed a stamina potion so she could run without getting winded. She unceremoniously slung the woman over her shoulder and took off as fast as she could with the Fereldan's dead weight.
"Don't you die on me! Don't you die! Not before I've had sex with you!" She ran as though her shapely ass was on fire, swearing loudly every time she tripped, or Hawke slipped off of her shoulder. Few people looked twice at the carcass-toting woman as she sped through Lowtown. It wasn't uncommon to see someone carrying a body in a part of the city where cholera was a regular visitor.
She took a hidden passage down to the Undercity, another place where bodies were even more frequent. She navigated her way to the clinic, whose lit lamp looked far more cheery than the situation ought to have allowed. Fenris was outside it, and he ran up to Isabela when he saw her approaching.
She passed her friend's body to him so she could catch her breath. Anders already had a cot ready, and Bethany stood beside him, ghost-white. Aveline looked away, unable to trust herself to watch what might happen next. The sight of Isabela when she walked in did nothing to ease Anders, Bethany or Aveline. Her white top and corset were horrifically spattered with a mixture of greenish dragon blood and Hawke's own life essence.
Anders set to work immediately and without question. Bethany could not sit by and do nothing. She stood behind the Warden, placing her hands on the back of his shoulders. They began to glow blue as she channeled her magic through him, so Anders wouldn't tire.
Fenris stood near the entrance, watching the mages closely. Aveline paced like an agitated wolf, while Isabela stood near, looking awkwardly torn between wanting to comfort the guardswoman or just throw up. She did neither.
Anders finally stepped away, the glow of his healing magic fading. He looked to Bethany, showing his gratitude through his eyes and passed her a lyrium potion. "Her wounds are closed, but she's lost so much blood and suffered so much trauma that I was forced to put her into a prolonged dream-state. Waking her up could put her into shock. She needs rest."
Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief, expelling all the air from their lungs that they didn't realize they were holding. Aveline tried to say her thanks to him for saving her best friend's life, but no words came from her throat. Anders put his hand on her shoulder, letting her know that she needn't say a word. Instead, she left to go put in for a temporary leave of absence with the Guard.
Fenris hovered, saying nothing, but the anxiety that tightened his features was obvious. He liked the rogue, and held an odd loyalty to her; however, expressing his emotions was not the elf's forte. To his endless gratitude, no one pressed him to do so, and just remained watchful, like a loyal hound.
Isabela replaced Aveline's pacing, wishing more than anything that she had a bottle of whiskey to down. Unfortunately, Anders had no drinkable alcohol because Justice wouldn't let him drink. So, she paced, twirling a knife fretfully between her fingers.
Bethany magically erected a sheet around her and her unconscious sister so she could get Hawke out of her mangled, bloodied armor in privacy. Once her sister was dressed in clean linens, she let the enchantment on the sheet go.
Isabela immediately lunged to Hawke's side, kneeling next to the cot, brushing the ebony locks from a face too pale. The pirate and mage wanted to exchange words, something to say thanks, something to comfort, but they could only look at the other, faces taut with worry.