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Rook
A few moments before...
The body of the venatori fell heavily to the ground outside the tavern, soaking his clothes due to the rain that always fell in the city. Rook shook her hands, indifferent, as if she had tossed a toothpick instead of a body that weighed twice as much as she did. Her hair, short and pink, above her shoulders, shook as she turned her head towards the tavern keeper and the other venatori, who escorted her as if they were her loyal dogs.
Rook slightly tilted her lips, sketching a mocking smile. She cracked her knuckles slowly as she took a step towards them.
—Let's try this again. Where is Neve Gallus?
Her voice rose in the silence of the tavern, which they had evacuated in advance, to conduct the interrogation without interruptions. A single look from Rook was enough for most people to rush out, seeing the threat in her eyes. Then, a chuckle was heard in the background. Rook ignored it mercilessly while fixing her heterochromatic eyes, one silver and the other quartz-colored, on the tavern keeper, knowing the laugh originated from a friend.
The tavern keeper, with an indifferent expression, diverted her gaze from her nails, where she had been focused until now, as if nothing concerned her. Although she wanted to appear calm, she couldn't hide the angry twitch of her lips, which had turned downward. She observed Rook and raised an eyebrow while stretching in the bar, resting one of her hands behind her.
—Do you think you can come here, to MY bar, with demands?— she asked threateningly in a low voice, to the elf. The venatori at her sides took a small step forward, opening and closing their hands, warming up for what was coming.
Rook took another step forward, widening her smile, more annoying.
If they wanted a fight, she thought, cracking her neck, she was more than willing to give it to them. But, above all, she was a good person and gave them another chance.
—Look, I have a mission," she sighed, with exhaustion, as if talking to small children. —I need to find Neve Gallus to stop the Dread Wolf, as she is the only one who knows where it is," she cracked her fingers again, impatiently, while looking at them, one by one, very, very slowly. "We can do this the easy way... or the hard way," she threatened, subtly lowering her tone, as her good master had always taught her.
For a Crow was expected to learn certain oratory techniques. More so if anticipating torture, she thought, indifferent.
The tavern keeper chuckled as if the elf posed no threat.
Rook paid it no mind. After all, the best poisons always come in small bottles. In this case, a bottle of one meter fifty, exactly.
—How adorable—said the tavern keeper, faking a sweet tone in her voice. Then, she raised a hand, silently ordering the venatori.
They took a step towards Rook, defiantly, ready to fight and go to extremes if necessary. Rook shrugged, seeing them advancing towards her.
If that's what they wanted, let it not be said that the pink-haired girl hadn't tried.
With a quick motion, she kicked a barrel beside her, launching it forward, causing the nearest venatori to fall heavily to the ground as it struck his head. In another swift step, she approached and punched his companion, distracted by the sudden flight of a barrel. The venatori's nose cracked under Rook's fingers, emitting a satisfying sound that the elf enjoyed.
Two down.
Still, she had gotten the most bothersome venatori of the pack. One of them, the smartest, took advantage of the elf's approach and grabbed her from behind, lifting her as if she were dead weight.
But Rook was trained for such situations.
Grunting, she broke free, elbowing him in the face, not without receiving a few blows in return.
These guys are persistent, thought Rook, feeling a blow to her face that made her grunt in pain, while taking a step back, staggering.
That proved costly, as one of them took advantage and grabbed her hair, slamming her face onto one of the tables, causing it to creak under her weight. Rook felt her teeth make a small noise, but luckily, the only thing that came out of her mouth was a bit of blood from biting her lip.
The tavern keeper smiled slyly, thinking she had won the battle, as she watched the exchange of blows among them, kicking in the air like a satisfied little girl.
What she didn't know was that Rook was many things.
Stubborn, one of them
Overly optimistic, another.
But above all, she was persistent. Very persistent.
She turned her head and raised a hand, taking advantage of a bottle within reach. She grabbed it and smashed it into the face of the venatori behind her, who still held onto her, thinking he had won the battle. Just with that blow, the tavern keeper's smile faltered as she saw the venatori fall heavily to the ground, along with his companion brought down by the barrel. She frowned, fear creeping into her gaze as she realized the situation.
"There's not enough gold to make up for this," she murmured, descending from the bar and trying to escape like a cowardly two-legged rat. But the pink-haired girl wouldn't let her get away easily.
Rook delivered two more swift and effective punches, removing the last standing venatori from her path. Once they were down, she turned, clicking her tongue, annoyed.
Time to resort to the old reliable.
—Varric, yours!— she exclaimed, looking back at that chuckle she had previously ignored.
A crossbow with four deadly blades rose and fired. The arrow flew accurately toward its target. The tavern keeper could only scream as the bolt snagged her shirt, pinning her to the wall, terror etched on her pale face.
The dwarf who had fired purred, satisfied with the shot. His face, full of scars and slightly wrinkled with age, lifted, looking at the tavern keeper.
Varric lowered Bianca, his beloved crossbow, and winked at her mockingly.
—I present to you Bianca, my faithful companion. She kindly requests— he said, placing it on his back skillfully —, that you stay put. If possible, of course."
The tavern keeper growled loudly, annoyed, trying in vain to free herself. Rook spat on the ground, releasing some blood. In one leap, she climbed over the bar, passing over it and approaching her, standing right in front of the human, who bared her teeth defiantly.
—Neve Gallus. Now —ordered the pink-haired girl, placing her hands on her hips, impatiently.
—In Dumat Square! The blood mages took her there— the tavern keeper panted, observing the threat in Rook's eyes, which now held no trace of amusement. Rook nodded, satisfied with the answer, and slightly turned back, diverting her gaze from the human.
In that moment, the tavern keeper reached for a bottle, stretching her arm, and with a quick motion, lowered it, ready to strike Rook in pursuit of a foolish revenge.
Despite this, apart from being persistent, thought the elf with a sly smile, Rook was very, very foresighted.
Using her reflexes, she turned and stopped her cold, gripping the traitorous hand of the tavern keeper. She clicked her tongue, expressing her disappointment.
—Bad girl.
She then delivered a direct blow with her forehead, rendering her unconscious, while Rook's head throbbed slightly from the impact.
Ah, but she was immensely satisfied, she thought, releasing the human's hand, which fell heavily to the ground with a loud thud.
Varric, who was behind her, began to laugh at that moment, raising a mug in her favor. His laughter echoed throughout the place, spreading his joy to the elf, who observed him, placing her hands on her hips.
—And that's why you're my second-in-command— Varric left the beer mug on the bar after taking a sip.—Though I'm sure there were a thousand better ways to find out where Neve was without, you know— he gestured sarcastically with his hand, pointing to the bar—taking down everyone.
Rook gave him a mocking little smile, watching him out of the corner of her eye.
—But it worked— she declared, shrugging indifferently.
With a gesture of her head, she headed for the door in two strides.
—Let's go. Harding must be worried.
Varric sighed, shaking his head, and looked sadly at his drink.
—Playtime is over then— he murmured under his breath.
He took a big sip from the mug, placed it heavily on the bar, and followed Rook, who watched him take position beside her while crossing her arms.
—Are you sure this Neve Gallus will know how to find him?— she asked, with some doubt in her tone.
Varric nodded firmly.
—There is nothing in Minrathous that escapes Neve. I would even say, in the world. She is one of the best detectives I've ever known in my life— he said with a serious expression, adjusting the crossbow again in a nervous tic—If she claims to have a lead on Solas, I believe her.
They opened the tavern door, heading outside while the rain soaked them. Rook closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the drops fall on her face, wetting her white lashes. After a few seconds, she opened them, inhaling and fixing them on the sky upon hearing a strange noise.
—Damn, the Archon's Palace— she murmured in surprise, looking at the enormous structure rising in the sky.
It was nothing more than a castle, with watch lights directed at the city. But it was a terrifying palace for many people in the city, she thought somberly, knowing the stories told about it. Varric also directed his gaze towards the palace, frowning as he saw the lights on.
—Something has got them agitated. And not something small. Let's hurry— he urged her hurriedly.
He started walking, but although he said to hurry, his steps were slow, almost measured. Confused, Rook moved beside him, pausing only for a moment to give some gold to a homeless person, who thanked her, looking at her. Rook gave a small smile and placed herself, taking small steps, beside the dwarf, positioning her cloak well to avoid the rain.
—Didn't you say to hurry?— she asked Varric between her teeth.
—We can't be conspicuous— the dwarf explained, lowering his voice —I'm in a hurry, yes, but we must proceed as if we don't want attention, to avoid drawing unwanted attention." Varric glanced at her out of the corner of his eye—Should I remind you that Solas has a legion of spies?—he inhaled slowly, looking forward again—The plan is simple. We find Neve Gallus, stop Solas, and that's it.
They slowly crossed the streets of Minrathous in silence after his words. The murmur of people accompanied them, unaware that among them walked two individuals with an important mission.
That of preventing the world as they knew it from perishing without remedy.
—Do you really think you'll be able to dissuade him from performing the ritual?— Rook asked, though there was a slight hesitation in her tone, as if she couldn't quite believe that Solas had any salvation left.
In the end, he had dedicated more time than they had lived to trying to destroy the only means that separated their world from being invaded by demons. Rook thought that her doubts were fully justified, given that perspective.
Varric's brow darkened at that moment, hearing her words.
—That damn ritual will tear the veil, the only thing separating us from the demons— he fixed his gaze on Rook with determination—I have to dissuade him— he declared, with tension etched on his face.
Then, they reached a small balcony, and from one moment to the next, a light focused on a citizen, pointing her with a big spotlight. She, frightened, huddled, not knowing what was going on.
—Hey! Stop!— ordered a voice from the Archon's Palace, amplified by its enormous magical loudspeakers. The citizen only huddled further, completely confused.
Rook and Varric hid behind a building near her, avoiding being seen while observing what was happening with brows full of perplexity.
—What the hell?— Varric murmured, only heard by the two of them.
—Are they looking for us because of the bar?— Rook asked, astonished. Barely ten minutes had passed since the brawl. How was it possible?
Varric huffed, annoyed, cracking his fingers, releasing tension.
—News travels fast in this city, by the Maker's beard.
—We have to help her, Varric— the elf said anxiously. Rook lunged forward, but was stopped by Varric's hand, who caught her before she could leave the cover. The dwarf shook his head, agitation written on his face.
—There's no time, Rook. We have to...
A thunderous noise stopped them cold, making them look at each other in horror as they recognized the sound. They directed their gaze to the stars, with unease. In the sky, a green breach began to open slowly. Figures, demons, began to slip through with inhuman screams. Rook held her breath, placing a hand on her chest.
Mythal'enaste. The veil was tearing.
Varric cursed loudly, using every curse that occurred to him at the moment.
—Oh, shit. We are late.
Without thinking twice, they started running down the street, dodging the crowd heading in the opposite direction, fleeing in terror from the demons.
—The ritual has begun, but if we hurry, we can stop it!— Varric dodged the crowd skillfully. With a gesture of his head, he pointed ahead, towards a street further up.
—Harding should be around here! She knows where that damn square is!
Suddenly, Varric feinted to the right, just as a demon fell a second after where he had been, dodging it skillfully, not even looking at it.
Rook raised her eyebrows, surprised by the dwarf's reflexes. Still, she didn't slow down, while also avoiding the demon, which fell due to inertia into a ravine.
Well, one less problem to worry about, Rook couldn't help but think.
—Do you think Solas is deliberately summoning demons?— Rook shouted to Varric, the idea occurring to her and mistrusting the elven god even more.
Varric shook his head confidently.
—No, it seems they're just slipping through the cracks!
Which is technically his fault, Rook thought, although she didn't mention it aloud, frowning with discontent.
—If they're just 'slipping through', how will it be when the veil breaks?!—she screamed desperately, pointing at the demons around them, indiscriminately attacking people, not distinguishing what to them were their prey.
At that moment, a demon fell in front of them, causing Rook to lose balance and topple backward, landing her butt hard on the ground. She grimaced in pain while rubbing it.
—Darn creature. I'm going to have a sore butt for a week, at least.
Varric extended a hand, his expression serious. Rook accepted it, getting up with a wince.
—As for your question... It will look a lot like this— he pointed to the demon in front of them. The demon moved to attack but was interrupted by a barrage of magic coming directly from the Archon's palace. The monster fell, leaving their path clear.
They continued forward, not stopping anymore. With a jump, they clambered over a wall, reaching the other side. Varric grabbed his crossbow to aim at another demon coming directly at them.
But, as if out of nowhere, an arrow lodged in the monster's back, causing it to scream in agony before disappearing into a black mist.
A perfect Bull's-Eye, Rook whistled, impressed. Then, she looked at who had made that perfect shot, with a healthy dose of envy.
A red-haired dwarf, her face covered in freckles, sighed in relief upon seeing the demon disappear. Addressing some humans behind her, she encouraged them to hide with soft whispers. They thanked her once more and ran to hide inside a house, closing the door behind them.
Varric sighed with relief, seeing the dwarf.
—Harding, are you okay?— he asked, skipping the greetings. Harding approached him, nodding, and slung her bow over her shoulder, hanging it from her explorer armor in shades of brown and orange.
—I do what I can to help, of course—she replied with a slightly high-pitched but very nice, almost sweet voice—There are too many demons and too many scared people— she murmured discontentedly, as she directed her gaze towards the breach, which seemed to grow larger.
—It's been years since the time of the Inquisitor that so many demons have roamed around,—Varric clicked his tongue, bowing his head while shaking it.
Harding, at that moment, looked at Rook and gave her a smile, empathetic given the situation they were living through.
—How about you guys over there?—she asked as a way of greeting.
Rook shrugged, trying to appear indifferent, knowing that panicking now wasn't the solution.
—Better than ever— she replied sarcastically but with a kind smile. Harding returned the smile, chuckling slightly at her attempt at wit—By the way, you wouldn't happen to have my stuff around here, would you?
Harding stepped aside at that moment, revealing a pair of daggers, wrapped in a brown sheath with violet crows drawn on the leather. Rook purred softly upon seeing them and moved forward to retrieve her beloved weapons, almost caressing them as she hung them at her waist. Varric nodded forward once he saw her ready.
—Let's go, Solas doesn't wait. Neither do we.
Harding glanced around while following the dwarf's strides.
—Where's Neve Gallus? Wasn't she at the rendezvous point?—she asked, confused at not seeing the detective.
Rook rubbed her neck, somewhat nervous.
—Let's say the venatori got ahead of us, and we had to... convince them to tell us where they took her— her cloak twirled when she turned abruptly to follow them—She's in Dumat Square.
Varric was the one shrugging this time, unable to avoid it, leading the way.
—One thing's for sure, it's not surprising our detective did something to anger the blood mages— he said with some amusement. He shook his head, scratching his beard, "But, really, damn inconvenient— he scoffed, somewhat amused.
Rook crossed her arms, sharing the same sentiment as her friend, joining in his laughter. Varric turned to the dwarf, tilting his head.
—Can you lead us to the square, Harding?— he asked without further delay.
—Exploration is my specialty, you know that. This way— Harding moved ahead, turning a corner and leading the way this time.
After a few minutes of walking, a green breach opened right in front of the dwarf, who quickly stepped back while reaching for her bow. A demon emerged from the rupture, screaming, accompanied by a couple more demons who joined its cries.
The team prepared their weapons, ready to fight their way through. Rook smirked slyly while cracking her fingers. She reached for her daggers and unsheathed them, making them gleam under the greenish glow of the night. She frowned defiantly, glaring at the monsters.
—Now, you stupid demons. Come and get me—she murmured, the anticipation of battle in her voice.
Beside her, Harding drew her bow, and Varric aimed Bianca confidently.
Nothing and no one would stop them in their mission, she thought, leaping into the fray, grinning slyly.
Elven terms:
Mythal'enaste: Mythal's favor