Garrett put up his hand, signaling to stop, keeping silent as he looked at Hafter- his hackles were most definitely up. He turned his head, gesturing to his mabari for the others. They all looked to Hafter, then braced themselves for whatever may be waiting for them in the next room.
Isabela moved silently forward, sneaking forward to look into the room from the mouth of the tunnel they were in. She moved backward just as stealthily, walking several steps before turning and coming back to them. They all came close, listening as she whispered.
"It looks like he's made himself a home here. It is a large room, with bedroom furniture, a table, some bookshelves…"
"Is he in there?" Varric asked just as quietly, receiving a glance, then a nod.
"At the table in the middle. He looks like he's studying a book, taking notes."
"And the problem?" Aveline whispered, getting a shocked look. "Obviously you'd have just killed him unless there was a problem," she replied with a smirk.
Isabela nodded again tersely. "The drop Is too high, and the staircase looks trapped."
"So if we sneak down the stairs we still have to worry about the traps, and the chance of losing the element of surprise is out the window." Varric said, annoyed. "Can't I just shoot him from the doorway?"
"It's not a great shot, furniture in the way."
"And a blood mage that is bleeding will be an even harder kill," Fenris added quietly.
They were all silent for a minute, trying to think of a foolproof plan. Finally Hawke gestured to get their attention.
"I'll create a distraction, you get down the stairs in one piece, then take him down before he kills me."
Carver rolled his eyes. "We don't need you acting the hero, we need a good plan."
However, the others didn't agree, or simply saw the determined- or one might say crazy- look in Hawke's eyes. They readied their weapons, standing in a line behind Varric and Isabela, ready to rush in once the stairs were clear.
"Good luck," Aveline said, touching his shoulder. "Hafter, with me." Hafter looked to Garrett, who gestured with a nod toward Aveline, then fell in beside the warrior. Fenris took his place in front of her, his position making better use of his speed. As Carver made to go ahead of her as well, Aveline gave him a dry look, that had him scowling, but returning to the back.
Isabela and Varric stood in front of Fenris, several feet away from the entrance to the room ahead, waiting to move once Hawke started his distraction. They watched as Hawke looked to be having a silent conversation with himself.
In actuality, Hawke was going through his repertoire of spells, determining the best course of action. He needed to have something to gain the complete focus of the other mage so that his friends could flank the man, while still keeping himself from major injury.
A wild thought grabbed his attention, and turning to the others, gave his friends a saucy wink. There was several different reactions, ranging from curiosity- Isabela, anticipation- Varric, indifference- Fenris, exasperation- Aveline and Hafter, and anger- Carver.
Hawke quickly placed a barrier around himself, then ran forward, bellowing at the top of his lungs. "I'LL KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!" He barreled forward, getting to the entrance and continuing, jumping off the edge towards the middle of the room. He watched with glee, as the man stood in shock, unable to react to the sudden intrusion. That's right, focus on me, Hawke thought as the ground came at him.
The barrier crashed as he landed, and he tucked his large frame in, rolling to prevent injury, though he had most certainly earned more than a few bruises as he hit. He rolled into the bed, striking his head on the base.
"Ugh," he grunted, standing, though with difficulty. His vision swam, and he shook his head to clear it. He was happily surprised that it worked, and he looked up at the older man, just as a stonefist came barreling into his stomach, and he fell again, groaning at the pain.
"What is the meaning of this? Who are you?" The man glared down at Hawke, his anger curling his lip into a sneer. "How did you get here?" he demanded.
"Jumped," Hawke wheezed cheekily. "I mean, you saw that, right?" The other mage brought a dagger from his robe, threatening him without speaking. "The name's Hawke. And you are?"
"You came here without knowing? Are you some petty thief then?"
"No. I meant what I said. I'm here to kill you. I just thought it would be good to have a name to give the guards."
"Quentin. Though it will do you little good. You'll never leave here."
Hawke stood slowly, staring at Quentin, and pulled out his staff. "You give all mages a bad name. Killing women wasn't enough? You had to cut them into pieces to satisfy your twisted agenda?"
"You know nothing." Quentin spat at him. "You do not know my suffering, my pain. You know nothing of my power, or the glorious work I am undertaking!"
"Yeah, not interested," Hawke replied with plenty of snark. "Although I'm fairly certain there's nothing glorious of a necromancer's power over the dead."
Quentin smiled creepily, and Hawke eyed it with distaste. "As I suspected, you do not understand. I suppose that is something I can grant you before I kill you. Listen carefully." Hawke's distaste was still evident, but he had to admit he was curious. "Necromancy is not the power over the dead, it is the power over death itself."
"Oh really?" Hawke asked sarcastically, slightly disappointed, though he figured it made sense the crazy necromancer didn't have world shattering secrets. "So what, after I kill you, you'll come back to life?"
"You mock, but you only show your ignorance."
"Oh please, enlighten me," Hawke answered with a grin, aiming his staff at the other mage. He felt something hit him, and pushed forward with his own spell, watching in dismay as his bolt of energy went wide, completely missing Quentin.
"Wha-?" he said, looking down at himself to ensure he wasn't hurt, though he felt no pain. He saw the glyph glowing green around his feet, and he quickly moved to avoid it, and was dismayed when it stayed with him.
"You cannot escape from my misdirection hex!" Quentin cackled at him. He waved his arms, casting another spell, and Hawke could see the purplish cloud around him, recognizing the siphoning cloud. He could feel his mana being pulled away, and he moved back, quickly casting a spell to dispell magic.
Quentin continued to smile, and Hawke was thoroughly creeped out. "I do not need your mana to finish you," he called to Hawke, casting a spell at him. Hawke quickly released a defensive spell, groaning in dismay when he instinctively sent it behind himself instead of in front. He watched as Quentin's spell hit him, and he fell to his knees.
Hawke yelled out, unsure of what was happening. He could feel the damage he was taking to his body, but even worse, the images that he was seeing… as if every terrible, despicable thing that he had ever done, or even witnessed was combined in some sort of horrific reality in his mind. He grabbed his head, trying to get rid of the images, the voices, but being unable to do anything but scream.
"Hawke!" Varric yelled, sending his triplet of bolts to the chest of the other man, annoyed when they were deflected off a barrier, but running to Hawke.
"Release him!" Aveline called to Quentin, her sword and shield at the ready to run him through.
"Ah, so you didn't come alone after all? Clever to keep me unaware." he gloated to Hawke's shaking form.
His gloating turned to pain as a great sword crashed through his barrier, and twin daggers found their mark in his back. He retreated swiftly before these two could cut him again. His hand raised from his back, looking at the red staining his fingers, then turning his eyes to the intruders, he smiled.
"Now you die."
Hawke stood shakily, the spell no longer in effect, but the lingering effects of the hex still evident. The others rallied to him, giving him the boost he needed. He glanced to each side, then down as Hafter licked his hand. He raised his staff, pointing it at Quentin. "I don't like it when other people steal my lines," he growled.
"Now you've done it," Carver said as he rolled his eyes. "Now he'll say killing you is a matter of principle."
"Truer words have never been spoken, brother," Hawke grinned at Carver, before returning to face Quentin. "Shall we?"
Quentin scowled, and brought up a stronger barrier, fueled by his own blood. Several shades appeared, and Hawke's group scattered to take them on. Quentin watched in disgust as not only Hawke, but a few of the others kept a commentary with the shades, or with himself as they fought through the horde. He found himself getting nervous as he heard them tell him how they would destroy him once they reached him.
He pulled again and again from his wounds, powering spell after spell, and summoning all the help he could. He would not be stopped here! He MUST finish his work! The noise of battle became dimmer, and Quentin could feel himself losing the strength to fuel his barrier. He let it fade as he gave everything to end the intruders.
He panted, smiling as his spell hit them, stopping them in their tracks, petrified where they stood- through their blood, and none too soon, as they were all coming directly to him. He limped over to the leader, raising his dagger slowly, the loss of blood almost dragging him to the floor.
"You tried to stop my work, so you must die. My beloved will live again, I just have to find her… scattered as she is…" His breath came slowly, and his anger grew as he looked at the people who almost stopped him.
He raised the dagger high, and smiled at Hawke. "Goodbye."
And froze.
"Sorry to interrupt," Isabela purred in his ear. She twisted her dagger, as she stabbed in and upwards to hit his heart. "Kitty gives her regards."
She yanked her dagger back, watching as his body crumbled to the floor. She followed his gaze, over to a painting hanging on the wall.
"My…. Be…lov….ed."
She watched, until he stopped breathing, then reached down to search him for anything valuable. She glanced over as the others moved themselves off the ground where they fell once his spell had worn off, though they came together to sit and rest from their fight.
Isabela came over, and joined them, sitting with her back to an armoire. "I'm suddenly wishing we had brought Anders with us as well," she commented as she found a bandage for the large claw mark wounds on her arm.
"I could-"
"No," Everyone replied.
Hawke scowled. "You did not ALL have to answer, you know."
"Once Anders clears you for healing, I'll be more than happy to let you, sweet thing," Isabela replied, giving Hawke a wink. "But I really don't want to end up like that slaver in the alienage." She shivered as she recalled the incident.
"That was an accident," Hawke whined. "Why can't you just let that go?"
"Hawke, your healing sealed the man's mouth and nose closed, and he suffocated immediately. That's not easily let go." Fenris commented dryly.
"But-"
"Hawke." Aveline's voice rang out, and had Hawke looking over. "You have to let these things go."
He promptly scowled again, and the scowl grew as the rest of his group laughed.
After a moment, Varric changed the topic. "So, if I heard correctly, that" he gestured towards Quentin's body, "was killing women to find pieces of his dead, uh, wife? And piecing her back together to then bring back to life? Did I get that right?"
"That's what it sounded like to me," Hawke agreed, as Hafter came and laid beside him, putting his head in Hawke's lap. "Though I have to admit, there is something… familiar… about the woman in that painting."
"I agree, it's eerie," Carver nodded and replied. "She almost looks like Mother."
Cat knew she shouldn't have left. Anders was going to freak out when he woke to find her gone, but she needed fresh air- something she couldn't really find in Darktown. Inside the clinic, she had felt suffocated, depressed, and disappointed that Anders hadn't reacted as she had wanted, which made sleep impossible. However, as she walked through the quiet corridors, she understood that his reluctance to take what she had said at face value showed that he was considering the possibility, he just hadn't accepted it as yet.
After all, she thought, he didn't just accept the truth of my so-called job. He looked at every angle first. Cat suddenly felt better about the entire situation, hopeful that Anders would do the same thing for his new insight into her origins.
Cat turned the corner, passing by a group of men on her way to the large staircase out of Darktown. She did a double take at the man in the lead, feeling like she should recognize him, and it continued to bother her as she climbed the stairs slowly, still feeling a little sore from her injury. She concentrated so hard on remembering, that she didn't hear the men turn and follow her, not until a bag went over her head, and she was pulled off her feet and carried away.
Anders threw open the door of the Hanged Man, practically toppling over a table, but catching himself in time. He frantically looked in the main room, and not seeing Hawke, hurried to the stairs, and coming up to Varric's room, pounded on the door.
He fidgeted, intertwining his fingers, trying not to panic or break the door down as he waited for it to open. Aveline opened the door, and Anders simply pushed by her in order to get into the room. He rushed over to Hawke as soon as he saw him seated at the table in Varric's main room, calling out, "Hawke!"
Hawke was sitting to Varric's right, who was at his usual place at the head of the table. Carver, Isabela, and Fenris sat with mugs in front of them, and Aveline returned behind him, sitting back in her seat. They each glanced his way, looking annoyed, though Anders couldn't tell if it was because of him specifically, or just because of the interruption. Not that that would stop him.
"Anders! Sit down, celebrate with us!"
"Celebrate?" Anders asked, momentarily confused.
"Yes," Carver added snidely. "We made sure that mage will never hurt anyone again."
Anders glanced at Carver, the feeling of injustice surging within him, wanting to be released, but he pushed it back down, focusing on why he was here.
"I can't Hawke, I need you. All of you! Cat is missing!"
There was a moment of complete silence, before Anders was bombarded with questions, insults, and accusations, everyone except Varric standing, and using wild arm movements to accentuate their comments, and then to top it off, Hafter began howling loudly.
Not moments later, they all had their hands over their ears to keep Hafter's howl from bursting their eardrums. Hawke quickly gave Hafter a nudge with his foot, to indicate he could take it from there, and Hafter stopped and sat watching, in case he needed to intervene again.
"All right everyone, first things first," Hawke stated, leaning forward with his hands on the table, looking at Anders. "In as few words as possible, what happened?"
"I made her a bed, and we both went to sleep. I woke up, and she was gone," Anders said, his voice steady, but he was quickly losing his calm. "The blankets were folded, so she left voluntarily from the clinic, however, she wasn't home, and no one that I spoke to between Darktown and Lowtown had seen her."
"We're wasting time," Carver said gruffly. "We need to go back to Darktown, see if we can pick up her trail."
"She isn't an animal trying to evade hunters, Carver," Hawke replied.
"Maybe not Hawke," Isabela interrupted. "But she knows how to leave a trail for friends to find. We should look."
"We can ask around while they are doing that," Varric suggested to Hawke.
Hawke looked at his crew, each of them had already finished their drinks, grabbed their weapons and coats and were prepared to leave. He looked at Hafter, gesturing him to the door, and said, "It seems our night is not over. Let's go."