"Andraste's tits! More of them?! Don't they have some armor to polish or something?"

While she might not have expressed it with Sera's colorful vocabulary, Morrigan appreciated the sentiment. They had already fought through a legion of Red Templars during their approach to the Temple of Mythal, and yet the enemy kept coming. Still, there was nothing to do but press onwards. As the next wave of the Templars approached, she and Herah threw up fresh barriers, hers around Cassandra and the Iron Bull, whom they had added to their party at the barricade, and Herah's covering themselves and Sera.

Not a moment too soon, either. The Templar archers loosed a wave of arrows while their corrupted brethren launched themselves at the Inquisition's front-line warriors. Their reckless zeal that reminded Morrigan of the Darkspawn she had once fought, primitive and incapable of fear thanks to the red lyrium. Iron Bull lopped off the head of the first man to come at him, and Cassandra engaged the next pair, deftly parrying their attacks with her shield.

Even as Morrigan launched a lightning strike at the archers, she found her gaze drawn back to Cassandra's duel. The Seeker had slid a counterstrike past one of the two Templar's shields and under his armor, and was now driving the other one back across the river they were fighting to cross. It was an impressive display of skill, all the more so given the many battles they'd already waged that day.

Of course, your eye never lingered so on Zevran or the Warden, and they were quite the experts with their blades as well.

Shaking off such thoughts, she returned her attention to the battle. A few of the Templars had made it past the warriors and were headed toward the Inquisition's back line. Sera leapt away from their charge, firing a volley of arrows as she retreated, while Herah conjured a ball of flame to fling into the Templar's midst. That scattered them well enough, but while several went down, one largely unburned warrior leapt in Morrigan's direction.

His sword collided with the barrier surrounding her before she could ready an effective response. Fortunately, Herah's conjuring was strong. The energy field took the brunt of the attack before collapsing, leaving her unharmed. That bought her enough time to re-focus and defend herself. She sent an icy burst flying from her staff, freezing the unfortunate Templar in place. Morrigan shifted backwards, positioning herself safely out of reach of his longsword before she followed up with a series of electrical strikes that cooked the trapped warrior inside his armor.

On the front line, however, things were not going quite so well. One of the enormous, lyrium-fed behemoths had joined the assault, and its charge had left Iron Bull sprawled on his ass while Cassandra was being driven backwards. Morrigan saw her stance waver, shield bucking under the powerful blows raining down on her. She hurled a lightning bolt at the creature, trying to offer Cassandra a reprieve, but it barely flinched at the impact.

Cassandra refused to go down easily. She ducked underneath the next strike and came up alongside the flank of the behemoth, slamming her sword into its armored hide. Unfortunately, it wasn't the only problem she had to contend with. Two more Red Templars were closing in on her exposed rear. As they raised their swords, Morrigan reacted on instinct. She took two swift steps down the river bank, and as her feet touched the water, she shifted. Her frame rippled and expanded, hands and feet giving way to fur and claws as she assumed her bear shape.

By the time she reached Cassandra, the Seeker had whirled to face her new attackers. The first she drove back with a series of rapid blows, but while she did, the second struck. His blade dug into her breastplate, and she fell to her knees, rolling away. Swifter than he could follow, Morrigan leapt. She hurled herself through the air, crashing on top of the surprised Templar and battering him to the ground. His sword gashed at her side as she crushed him, but she ignored the pain, slamming her paw into his head. His helmet fell off and her second blow mashed his face to a bloody pulp.

Morrigan tilted her head at the sound of the behemoth moving toward her, but before it got far, it stopped in its tracks. Iron Bull was back on his feet and in the full fury of his blood rage, his greatsword hacking massive chunks out of its side. That only left the other Templar. He had recovered from Cassandra's earlier attack, and he pressed forward, but the Seeker had regained her bearings too. While Morrigan's bear form held the Templar's attention, Cassandra swung at his ankles, the blow throwing him to the ground where Morrigan was easily able to finish him off.

Soon, the last of the enemy had been dealt with. The ground was littered with corpses, and Morrigan surveyed the carnage with a sense of satisfaction. She didn't shift often, but something about the way she had leapt to Cassandra's rescue felt good... Blast and damnation, what in Thedas and beyond am I thinking? I was not rescuing anybody. T'was simply instinct to protect my allies, distasteful as they may be. But some part of her knew she wouldn't have taken quite as much pride in defending Sera or Bull from such an attack.

Unsettled by her feelings as much as her actions, she reverted back into her human form, adjusting her top to make sure it covered her properly. The enchanted garment usually returned to its previous place when she shifted, but in her current state of distraction, she couldn't take that for granted. She managed to strike a casual pose as Cassandra approached her, avoiding the Seeker's eyes until the last possible moment. When she finally did look though, she was surprised to see gratitude on Cassandra's face.

"Thank you, Morrigan," she said, smiling and a little breathless. "I wasn't prepared for that last one."

Seeing Cassandra smile and use her name without sounding like she had swallowed a mouthful of curdled milk was so strange that Morrigan couldn't form an answer for several moments. She was used to biting insults, not honest gratitude. "Well," she said at last, blinking to try and clear her head, "I must admit that you were right to don that bulky breastplate of yours. That Templar's sword would surely have skewered you had you not been wearing it."

"I would have been skewered anyway if he had made it to me. I've never seen you transform like that. Why haven't you made use of that form in combat before?"

Morrigan shrugged. She wasn't entirely sure why she had donned the bear's shape this time, and the answers that came to mind first were not ones she was comfortable disclosing. The thought that she might have some lingering care inside of her for Cassandra simply because they had been sexual with each other was terrifying. 'Tis an infection of the heart, she thought, frowning with annoyance. I will become soft again like the Warden's friendship made me if I do not take care.

But despite her inner conflict, she couldn't find it in herself to be rude. She had saved Cassandra's life, and Cassandra had thanked her most politely. Even she recognized that it would be crossing a line to be dismissive in such circumstances. After what the two of them had been through, she supposed professional respect was the most she could hope for. "'Tis perilous to expose myself in combat in that manner. I only take on that form in dire circumstances."

Unfortunately, Cassandra did not let the subject drop. "And you consider saving my life a dire circumstance?" she asked, testing the words out as if she was uncertain of them.

Had she not spent her entire life controlling such reactions, Morrigan would have blushed. Instead, she cleared her throat and averted her eyes again. "I've no wish to see you harmed, Cassandra," she said, using the Seeker's name instead of her title for a change. When she realized how that had sounded, she tried again. "We need our party at full strength to make our way into the temple..."

Thankfully, an interruption saved her before she could flounder any further. For once, Sera's timing was perfect. The elf bounded up beside her, grinning from ear to ear. "You showed those tin hats, yeah?" she said, nudging an elbow into her side. "Don't normally like that wiggly-fingered magic stuff, but that was right fun to watch! You smashed him in good with those huge paws, didn'tcha Spooky?"

"And you looked damn sweet doing it, too." Iron Bull swaggered over to their side, hefting his massive sword up onto his shoulder. After her time with Sten, she would have expected the Inquisition's qunari swordsman to be dour and stoic, but the Bull seemed to revel in his work. "Turning into a bear's pretty bad-ass. Can you do a dragon, too?"

"No," she admitted, "A bear is the largest shape I can take on." Her mother could manage a good deal more, but though she had Flemmeth's grimoire, she was still far from having mastered all of her secrets. If I did, would I become more like her? Now that is a truly frightening thought.

"Well, bear's still pretty good. What about you, boss? Have you been holding out on us? Got any forms of your own up your sleeve?"

Herah laughed, the broad grin on her face suggesting that she was particularly pleased with the entire situation. "No, I prefer to leave the shapeshifting heroics to Morrigan." She patted the Seeker on the shoulder. "I hope you appreciated it, Cassandra."

Cassandra wasn't as good at hiding a blush as Morrigan, and her her whole face turned a brilliant shade of red. At least she finds this situation as mortifying as I do. One of the few things we have in common, I suppose. "I have already thanked her, Inquisitor. Now, I believe that we should resume moving. The temple is not far, and we should try and reach it before Corypheus does."

"Oh, no doubt," Herah agreed, her smugness not wavering as she began to trudge towards the far bank of the river. "I'm sure that's why we should get going."

"'Tis not what I expected. What was this chamber used for?"

Herah had no idea of the answer to Morrigan's question, which only made her more cautious as their party moved across the vast room decorated in ornate elven tilework. Thus far, they had successfully passed through the various trials they'd encountered, and she hoped there would be no more. At this point, another encounter with the Red Templars might come as a welcome change from hopping around stonework puzzles.

They'd made it about halfway across the room when a disturbance in the air caught her attention. From out of a strange mist, a half-dozen of the ancient elves they'd encountered earlier appeared, bows in hand, while another stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the chamber. He was tall, clad in armor and a hooded brown cloak, and carried himself with a clear aura of authority.

"Venavis," he began, cold arrogance marking his tone. "You are unlike the other invaders. You bear the mark of magic which is… familiar. How has this come to pass? What is your connection to the others who disturbed our slumber?"

Herah looked down at her hand, the magic of the anchor tracing a pattern of light across it. Do they know what this is? Maybe they can help me figure out more of what I need to do with it. "They are my enemies as well as yours," she replied, her voice ringing out in the huge space of the chamber.

The elf's hand rested on his chin as he weighed her words, and then he spoke once more. "I am called Abelas. We are sentinels, tasked with standing against those who trespass on sacred ground. We wake only to fight, to preserve this place. Our numbers diminish with each invasion. I know what you seek. Like all who come before you, you wish to drink from the Vir'abelasan."

Morrigan leaned close to her. "The place of the way of sorrows," she whispered with undisguised eagerness. "He speaks of the Well."

Actually, Herah wasn't all that eager to drink from the blasted thing herself, especially since she had not idea of what that would entail.

Abelas' expression hardened as he continued, and his voice was filled with a certainty she'd become far too accustomed to. "It is not for you. It is not for any of you." Great. Another religious fanatic. She really hoped this elf's devotion to his faith didn't force them to kill him.

"We did not come here to fight you, nor to steal from your temple," she insisted.

Thankfully, Abelas' next words were, "I believe you. Trespassers you are, but you have followed the Rites of Petition. You have showed respect to Mythal. If these others are enemies of yours, we shall aid you in destroying them. When this is done, you shall be permitted to depart… and never return."

Cassandra didn't seem satisfied with that answer. "I do not trust him. We know not what they will do once the battle is over."

For once, Morrigan agreed with the Seeker, but for very different reasons, voiced in much more hushed tones. "Consider carefully. You must stop Corypheus, yes, but you may also need the Well for your own purposes."

Herah sighed. Both of her allies had valid points, but there had been enough death already that day. She wasn't going to kill people who were prepared to fight alongside her over what might be, and she definitely didn't want to get involved in another disagreement between Morrigan and Cassandra. "I accept your offer," she said to Abelas, ignoring both of them.

Abelas nodded, showing as little emotion as ever. "Very well. You shall be guided. As for the Vir'abelasan… It shall not be despoiled, even if I must destroy it myself."

The elf turned to leave, but before he had gone more than a few paces, a distraught, "No," flew from Morrigan's lips. A puff of purple smoke enveloped her and for the second time that day, she shifted. This time though, it was not a bear's shape that she took on. Instead, where a dark-haired woman had once stood there was only a raven, which darted off in pursuit of Abelas.

Herah opened her mouth to implore her not to leave, but before she could say anything, a cry of "Morrigan," cut her off. She may have been upset to see the witch depart, but whatever she was feeling couldn't match the anguished look that now covered Cassandra's face.