Dragon Age: Revengeance

ACT II

Chapter 12

Florianne strode into Razikale's private chambers, slowing only when Draven held up a hand in warning. She shot him a questioning look, and he leaned close in order to whisper an explanation.

"She is speaking with Lord Dumat."

Florianne's eyes widened, and she peered around the screen in order to catch a glimpse of Razikale. The Old God (Goddess?) was talking in a low voice to a statue of Dumat. And whilst Florianne could hear no answer coming from it, she did not doubt that Razikale was communicating with the Silent One.

"Shall I return?" she whispered back to Draven.

"No," said Razikale, raising her voice. She strolled over to them both. Razikale had ditched her ancient battle attire in favour of a modern Orlesian dress akin to the ones Florianne herself liked to wear, albeit in black, matching her long dark hair, which she had pinned up. She smiled and approached the former Grand Duchess. "Florianne, it's so good to see you."

Florianne bowed her head in reverence. "I am honoured to appear before you, Your Holiness."

"Well? What have you to report?"

"The surviving Orlesian nobles have accepted me as their new empress, their armies pledged to serve me, and by extension, yourself. Regrettably the same cannot be said for the Chantry. Leliana has rallied the remaining Templar and Inquisition forces against you. I fear they will not capitulate, and will fight us to the very end."

Razikale flexed her hands in exasperation. "Incredible! I levelled Val Royeaux in an instant! I stand before them all, a literal goddess in the flesh, and still they cling to their pathetic excuse for a faith! Draven, what news from the Imperium?"

He bowed. "Pure chaos, Your Holiness. Half of the Imperium sees you as their salvation from the Qunari invasion, the other half is terrified of repeating past mistakes, believing that to accept you would bring down the Maker's wrath upon them."

She scoffed. "Fine, let them stew. Perhaps when the Qunari have enslaved them all they will reconsider. In the meantime I need to find June's weapon. Dumat says that the location of the weapon is contained within the Well of Sorrows." She regarded Florianne closely. "You know of it?"

"From my time with the Inquisition, yes," she admitted. "It was a mystical repository of ancient elven knowledge and wisdom located at the Temple of Mythal. Corypheus sought it during his campaign, but the Inquisition reached it before him. The knowledge contained within the Well was absorbed by a witch named Morrigan, Celene's former magical advisor."

"And where is this witch, now?"

"I know not, Mistress."

Razikale approached Florianne, drawing very near to her. When she spoke, her voice was low and sweet, her expression playful. "Then you know what to do, I trust? Bring me the witch, alive, but not necessarily unharmed. Use whatever resources you need to get it done. Don't disappoint me, Florianne. I have high hopes for you."

She curtsied. "I will not fail you, Mistress Razikale."

Solona brought Fiona aboard her ship, the Astera, docked in Kirkwall harbour. They were immediately greeted by Solona's maid, bearing a tray with two mugs of cider. Solona took hers and drank deeply, whilst Fiona stared at the maid, completely aghast.

"You have a demon on your ship?!"

Solona wiped her mouth dry. "Who, Melynx? Don't worry about her, she's fine."

Fiona continued to stare. The demon in question looked like a normal human girl, save for the cat ears and tail. Sensing her apprehension, Solona beamed and stroked Melynx's head.

"Will you relax? I have a contract with her, she's completely loyal to me. Also she is freaking adorable. Aren't you? Yes you are! Who's the cutest? Who's the cutest?"

Melynx purred. Fiona very gingerly took her drink and tried her best not to think about it too much. Solona gestured for her to follow.

"Come on, you should meet some of the gang."

"Gang?"

She opened the hatch leading below decks and ushered Fiona in. "Well yeah, you didn't think I'd been searching for a cure to the Blight all by myself, did you?"

She led Fiona to a strategy/briefing room of sorts, filled with maps, charts, posters, diagrams, and a notice board covered with pinned notes. Inside waiting for them were two former Grey Wardens; an ancient, wizened looking mage dressed in purple robes, and a dark-haired, freckled woman in heavily customized alchemical rigging. Solona gestured to indicate them both.

"Allow me to present Avernus - our resident blood mage Blight expert - and Leonie Caron – genius alchemist, artificer, and general tinker. Guys, this is-"

Leonie gasped and took a hesitant step towards them. "Oh my gosh!" She surged forwards and clasped Fiona's hand with emphatic enthusiasm. "You're her, aren't you? Grey Warden, First Enchanter, Leader of the Mage Uprising, and the only person in recorded history to ever be cured of the Blight! Lady Fiona, I can't tell you what an honour it is to meet ... well, a living legend like yourself."

Fiona smiled, a little overwhelmed to be on the receiving end of such a warm welcome. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone so pleased to meet me before. To be honest, I normally provoke the opposite reaction in people. I'm not exactly popular."

Leonie flapped her hands in dismay at that. "I know, I heard how the Wardens treated you. I couldn't believe it. Curing the Blight is without a doubt the single most important thing there can possibly be for the Grey Wardens. You were everything they've ever been searching for, and they just ... threw you away." She shook her head in bewilderment. "I can't even begin to describe how wrong that is."

Avernus cleared his throat. "Yes, well we have our suspicions about that. There's something rotten at Weisshaupt. The First Warden is being ... influenced, shall we say, by malevolent forces."

Fiona turned to Solona with a wry smile. "Is that why you punched him?"

"No, but it certainly helped in hindsight," she admitted, finishing off her drink. "So Leonie, where are we at now?"

The freckled alchemist hurried back around the table smothered in charts and documents. "Right! Well we're definitely closer than we've ever been, we just need one final piece to the puzzle. There's an old elven legend about the goddess Andruil journeying into the Void and being corrupted by it." She held up scraps of stories they had gathered. "We've long suspected that this tale describes her contracting the Blight. And with the appearance of Fen'Harel, plus the information about Flemeth, we now know that the elven gods are no mere myth. The important thing is that in the stories, Andruil was cured by Mythal. So Mythal knows how to cure the Blight. And we know Mythal exists."

Fiona was a little sceptical. "You want to ask Mythal how she cured Andruil?"

"Not exactly..."

"We need to find your old friend," said Avernus, directing his remark to Solona. "We're confident she holds the key to the cure."

Solona set her empty mug down and frowned. "Umm, which old friend?"

"Morrigan."

"Oh." She sighed heavily. "Damn."