Astarion and Dorian tumbled out of the rift, landing with an undignified splash in knee-deep water. Astarion, his annoyance evident, rose to his feet, shaking the water off his hands in disgust. He glanced around the room, only to discover that they were in a cell in a castle dungeon.
"What in the hells just happened?" Astarion grumbled, his gaze darting around their eerie, watery surroundings. He quickly patted himself down to ensure all his belongings were intact before fixing a pointed look on Dorian. "Where are we, and what did you do?"
Dorian, equally bewildered but with a touch of excitement in his eyes, muttered to himself as he scanned the mysterious locale. "Displacement? Interesting," he mused, his fingers dancing in the air as if tracing invisible threads of magic. "It's probably not what Alexius intended. The rift must have shifted us... but to where? Could it be the closest confluence of arcane energy?"
Astarion's patience waned. "Well, wherever this is, I have no intention of staying in this damp and wretched dungeon," he declared firmly.
Dorian's expression brightened with an epiphany. "Wait! I think we might still be within the castle's confines. Of course! It's not merely where the rift moved us; it's when! Alexius used the amulet as a temporal focus. It transported us through time!"
Astarion raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. " Time travel , you say? I can't say I've ever experienced that particular delight before. It certainly adds a new layer of intrigue to our adventure."
Dorian nodded, his mind racing to unravel the mysteries of their predicament. "We'll need to determine precisely when we've arrived. Let's explore our surroundings, discern where the rift has taken us, and then, if possible, find a way back."
Astarion mulled it over. "So, if Alexius didn't intend to toss us into this time-traveling chaos, what exactly was he trying to achieve?"
"I believe his original plan was to remove you from time completely. If that happened, you could never have been at the Temple of Sacred Ashes or mangled with the Elder One's plan. I think your surprise at the castle hall made him reckless. He tossed us into the rift before he was ready. I countered it, the magic went wild, and here we are. Make sense?" Dorian explained.
Astarion smirked, his ego undamaged by their bizarre situation. "Well, that's his own fault. If he'd bothered to do his research, he'd know that I'm not so easily disposed of by a stray spell."
Dorian's expression turned solemn as he contemplated the ramifications of their journey. "I don't even want to think about what that will do to the fabric of the world. We didn't 'travel' through time so much as punch a hole through it and toss it straight into the privy," he said, his voice filled with gravitas. Then, with a hint of reassurance, he added, "But don't worry– I'm here. I'll protect you."
Astarion's lips curled into a flirtatious smile as he leaned closer to Dorian. "Oh, Dorian," he purred, his voice oozing with seductive sarcasm, "how utterly delightful to have you as our fearless guardian amidst this tangled web of time."
Dorian cleared his throat, his cheeks still tinged with a faint blush from Astarion's flirtatious banter. "Shall we press on?" he asked.
"Of course," Astarion replied. He gestured towards the cell's door with a dramatic flourish of his hand.
Dorian made his way to the unlocked cell door and swung it open. They proceeded down a watery corridor and ascended a small staircase, emerging from the waterlogged lower dungeon. As they explored their immediate surroundings, they couldn't help but notice the peculiar sight of large, crimson crystals jutting out from the walls and floors. Some of these crystals had grown so large that they obstructed doorways, compelling the duo to seek alternative paths through the castle. The floors were covered in a thick layer of dirt, a testament to the castle's apparent neglect.
After further exploration, Astarion and Dorian stumbled upon two guards stationed in a hallway. One was human, and the other was a halfling. As they approached the guards, Astarion felt an uncomfortable sensation as the tadpole in his head made contact with the individuals standing before them.
"Ah, another true soul. What brings you to this part of the dungeon?" the human guard asked. "There's nothing of interest down here, just a few prisoners. If you're looking for something more exciting, you should pay a visit to General Thorm upstairs. The demon army will be here soon– I'm certain he will have something for you to do."
The halfling guard scrutinized Astarion for a moment, as if trying to recollect where he had seen him before. He probed at Astarion's memories, employing the tadpole's abilities, while Astarion attempted to shield himself from the mental assault. Regrettably, his efforts were in vain.
"Wait a minute, this is–" the halfling guard began but was suddenly gripped by violent gasping and choking. The human guard followed suit, both of them screaming in unbearable agony. Dorian and Astarion stood in shock as tentacles erupted from the guards' mouths, their skin turning gray, and blood spurting from every orifice. The tentacles continued to force their way out, and in a horrifying instant, the transformation was complete– leaving two newborn mind flayers standing before them.
Astarion recognized the grave danger they faced and acted swiftly. In one deft motion, he thrust his blad into the neck of one of the newly transformed mind flayers before spinning around and driving his weapon directly into the gut of the other. He toppled one to the ground and relentlessly delivered a series of lethal stabs to its head. Astarion rose to his feet, wiping the blood from his face with his forearm before turning his gaze toward Dorian.
Dorian had approached the remaining mind flayer and conjured a fire spell that engulfed the creature in flames. The air was filled with the acrid scent of burning flesh as the once-human guard was consumed by the inferno. " Vishante Kaffas ! What in the world just happened here?" Dorian exclaimed, his face a tableau of sheer horror and astonishment at the nightmarish scene they had just witnessed.
"Mind flayers," Astarion explained with a grave tone, the memory of the horrific transformation still fresh in his mind. "They host a parasitic creature in their brains that violently mutates them into those abominations we just saw. They're quite dangerous, so we must exercise caution in our interactions from this point forward."
Dorian's face remained a mixture of horror and concern as he probed further. "I saw your reaction to them before they… transformed . You seemed unwell, as if afflicted by a severe headache. Are you carrying one of those parasites?"
Astarion raised his hand, his unease palpable. "Yes, I am host to one, but fear not—I am on your side. This mark," he said, displaying it, "seems to be preventing the transformation, at least according to Solas. For now, our priority is to escape this place. I find it most unsettling."
"Agreed," Dorian concurred. "We must make our way out of here as fast as possible. However, I have a multitude of questions waiting for you once we are free from this wretched place."
With that resolution, the two of them ventured down the corridor, nearly passing by Varric unnoticed. Astarion did a double-take before approaching Varric, who was locked within a cell and appeared unwell, with a hint of vibrant red in his eyes.
"Andraste's sacred knickers, you're alive?" Varric exclaimed, disbelief etched across his face. "Where have you been? How did you escape?" he asked, approaching the cell's bars.
"We didn't escape. Alexius sent us into the future," Dorian clarified.
"...Everything that happens to you is weird," Varric said to Astarion.
"Believe me, I'm well aware," Astarion replied. Concern painted his features as he observed Varric's condition. "You don't seem well, Varric. There's something in your blood– I can smell it even from here. What happened?"
"Bite your tongue. I look damn good for a dead man," Varric said, faking offense.
Dorian interjected with a glimmer of hope, "If we get to Alexius, I might be able to reverse all of this. I might be able to send us back to our own time, stopping this future from ever happening. Simple, really."
Varric's expression darkened as he revealed more about their current predicament. "It may not be as straightforward as you think. Alexius is but a pawn. His 'Elder One' assassinated the empress, led a demonic invasion of the south, and allied with a figure named 'Ketheric Thorm,' who's recruiting people here and indoctrinating them into worshiping a deity called 'the Absolute,' for reasons unknown. They have control over nearly everything," Varric cautioned. "Alexius is not your primary concern."
Astarion chimed in resolutely, "Nevertheless, we must find a way to change this grim future. We need to return to our own time."
"I'm pretty sure you're both insane, but if taking on Alexius is the plan, count me in," Varric agreed.
Astarion deftly picked the lock of Varric's cell, freeing him. The trio continued their exploration, searching for more companions. In their conversations, Astarion also learned that they had been transported one year into the future, a daunting revelation. With only a year until this bleak reality became a certainty, they had much work ahead to avert this catastrophic future.
Their journey led them to the Iron Bull, who appeared to have suffered a similar fate as Varric—poisoned by the red crystals throughout the castle and confined within a cell. Bull, seemingly encased by boredom, was chanting, "Three hundred bottles of beer on the wall, three hundred bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around..."
As Astarion approached the cell, Bull turned to face them. "You're not dead? You're supposed to be dead. There was a burn on the ground and everything," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Alexius didn't kill us. His spell sent us through time. This is our future," Dorian explained.
Bull countered, "Well it's my present. And in my past, I definitely saw you die."
Astarion retorted, "I'm no more dead than you."
"Ugh. Now dead and not dead are up for debate. That's wonderful," Bull said, groaning.
Dorian, growing impatient, concluded, "This conversation has taken a turn for the moronic. Just come with us. We're going to fight Alexius."
"Let's move. No time like the present," Bull said, as Astarion freed him from the cell.
The party stumbled upon the torture chambers soon after. Astarion approached a closed door, and behind it, he could hear the harrowing sounds of someone being subjected to brutal torment—Leliana. Despite the excruciating pain she endured, Leliana adamantly refused to answer her torturer's relentless inquiries, all of which revolved around Astarion. They demanded to know how Astarion had managed to be present at the temple, steal the mark, and escape unscathed. However, even Astarion himself didn't possess the answers they sought. The tortured cries on his behalf were unbearable, compelling Astarion to burst into the room.
Leliana hung suspended from her arms, bound by chains that dangled from the ceiling. The moment she spotted Astarion, she used her legs to constrict her torturer's neck, swiftly snapping it and causing the tormentor to crumple to the floor. "You're alive!" she exclaimed.
Astarion, appreciative of her resourcefulness, nodded in response. "That was quite impressive," he complimented.
"Anger is a powerful force, stronger than any pain. Do you have weapons?" Leliana inquired.
"Always," Astarion affirmed, approaching her and promptly setting her free.
"Good. The magister is likely in his chambers. We should take caution to avoid Ketheric," she advised.
Dorian, curious about their situation, couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you at least curious about how we ended up here?"
Leliana's tone remained stern as she replied, "No."
"Alexius sent us into the future. None of this was meant to happen. We need to undo his spell. If we can return to our own time, we can prevent this future from ever occurring," Dorian explained, despite Leliana's lack of interest.
Leliana's anger flared. "And mages always wonder why people fear them… no one should have this power. This is all pretend to you– some future you hope will never exist. I suffered. The whole world suffered. It was real ."
Dorian pressed on, wanting information. "So what happened while we were away?"
Leliana cut him off with a firm command: "Stop talking."
"I'm just asking for information," Dorian said defensively.
"No. You're talking to fill the silence. Nothing happened that you want to hear," Leliana declared, shutting down any further discussion.
"Very well," Dorian acquiesced. "Let's proceed and find Alexius. I imagine he'll be in the more luxurious part of the castle, if such a place exists," he remarked, signaling their readiness to move forward. Astarion led the way out of the room, the rest of the group following closely behind.
Their quest for Alexius demanded extensive exploration, consuming valuable time before they finally encountered him. The magister was situated within the grand throne room, but he was not alone. A heavily armored man occupied the throne itself, while Alexius stood nearby. Astarion deduced that the man must be Ketheric Thorm, the enigmatic figure his companions had so vehemently warned him about.
Ketheric remained seated on the throne, his gaze fixed upon Astarion. "You're too late. You've sown chaos wherever you tread, yet your arrival is too belated to halt anything. Nevertheless, Corypheus requires that mark of yours," Ketheric addressed Astarion.
Bull, unable to contain his fury, dashed towards Ketheric, thrusting his weapon into his neck. To their astonishment, Ketheric merely sighed and pulled the weapon away from him. "That won't suffice, and I have more pressing matters to attend to. You're meaningless to me. Alexius, kill Astarion and his companions swiftly. Failure to do so will seal your son's fate," Ketheric ordered, rising from his throne.
Astarion watched in disbelief as the immortal man departed from the throne room, leaving them alone with Alexius. Without hesitation, Alexius launched an attack and conjured a rift into the Fade, summoning demons to assail Astarion and his party. Astarion swiftly dispatched the demons and sealed the rift. However, Alexius promptly reopened another. It was a relentless battle, marked by Alexius' persistence in reopening rifts and summoning demons.
Despite the challenges, the group eventually triumphed, and Alexius lay lifeless on the ground. Dorian approached the body and retrieved the amulet Alexius had used to create the rifts—the same amulet that had transported Dorian and Astarion through time.
"This is the same amulet he used before. I think it's the same one we made in Minrathous. That's a relief. Give me an hour to work out the spell he used, and I should be able to reopen the rift," Dorian explained while examining the necklace closely.
"An hour? That's impossible! You must depart immediately," Leliana insisted.
The ground suddenly trembled beneath them, and chunks of stone from the ceiling plummeted to the floor, a consequence of the violent shaking. "The Elder One. Corypheus. His army is here," Leliana stated.
Bull stepped forward, determined. "We'll go on ahead and eliminate as many of them as possible."
"Astarion, Dorian, you must leave. Our only chance at survival lies in preventing this day from ever occurring. Cast your spell. You have as much time as I have arrows," Leliana declared before heading towards the grand castle doors with Bull and Varric.
Dorian immediately set to work on the amulet, painstakingly deciphering the intricate spell required to transport them back to their own time. Meanwhile, an onslaught of demons surged into the throne room, accompanied by an even more unsettling presence—mind flayers.
" Fuck . Dorian, we need that spell now ," Astarion urged, his eyes fixed on the overwhelming army that confronted them.
Leliana, Bull, and Varric fought valiantly, striving to hold back the relentless tide of foes, but the odds were insurmountable. It became apparent that continuing to stave off the enemy would only result in their own demise. Astarion watched in horror as his companions, one by one, met their tragic end, their anguished cries echoing through the throne room as enemy weapons pierced their bodies.
"You move, and we all die!" Dorian shouted at Astarion, a stark reminder to remain still. With immense effort, Dorian finally succeeded in opening a rift beside them using the amulet.
Just as Astarion and Dorian were about to leap through the portal to safety, a haunting voice, one Astarion had hoped never to hear again, pierced the chaos. It sent a paralyzing fear through him, sending a chill down his spine.
"Oh, my prodigal son. You didn't truly believe you could escape, did you?" Cazador's voice reverberated through the room as he approached Astarion and Dorian from the shadows.
"No. It...can't be," Astarion said, his voice shaky as terror gripped his heart.
Dorian observed Astarion's terror, and although he didn't fully grasp the history between Astarion and Cazador, he understood the urgency. "Astarion, we have to go!" he shouted, attempting to drag Astarion through the rift. However, his efforts proved futile.
With a mere raise of his staff, Cazador ensnared Astarion in a potent red magic, rendering him immobile. "It's a pity, Astarion, that you amounted to so little . You seem to have forgotten— you're MINE and will ALWAYS be mine ," Cazador declared, slowly advancing towards Astarion.
Dorian felt conflicted, torn between his desire to escape through the rift and his determination to rescue Astarion. Astarion was the one capable of closing the rifts and altering their circumstances, but Cazador, an apparent formidable mage versed in obvious blood magic, had ensnared Astarion in an unknown spell. Furthermore, the demon horde was closing in. "Stay away from him!" Dorian shouted, focusing his magical energy on protecting Astarion. However, his efforts seemed futile as Cazador remained unaffected.
Astarion struggled desperately against Cazador's magical grip, but he found himself powerless against the overwhelming force. He cried out in despair, the trauma, fear, and anguish crashing down upon him as he faced the horrifying prospect of falling back under Cazador's control. The pain and terror he had tried to escape returned with devastating force, and he frantically sought a way out of this nightmarish situation.
Cazador regarded Dorian with disappointment, his voice carrying a tinge of bitterness. "It's a shame you killed Alexius—he was working on crafting a rift that could return me and Astarion home. It appears you're well-versed in the amulet's properties, though. You'll serve as his replacement," Cazador declared, his gaze unwavering.
Dorian vehemently shook his head. "I think not . Release Astarion. I'm warning you!" he retorted, his tone laced with a veiled threat.
Cazador responded with a mocking laugh. "Do you believe you can intimidate me? You have no choice in the matter," he scoffed, advancing towards Dorian.
Dorian took a few cautious steps backward, aware that he couldn't retreat too far with the demon army closing in. The horde had momentarily halted, perhaps in deference to Cazador, who may have held a position of authority among them. Regardless, Dorian knew that venturing too close to the demons would likely result in his death.
In a swift and brutal maneuver, Cazador lunged at Dorian, wresting the mage's staff from his grasp and sinking his teeth deep into Dorian's neck.
"Dorian! NO! " Astarion's anguished cry pierced the air as he witnessed Cazador's attack on his friend. However, Astarion soon realized that Cazador's hold on him had loosened, and he summoned all his strength to break free from the magical bonds that had restrained him. Knowing he couldn't rescue Dorian without causing his friend's demise, Astarion opted for the only alternative he could think of in the moment—shoving all three of them through the rift, propelling them back to the present.