Chapter Text
Casual destruction of the dead.
That was the accusation levelled at Lieutenant Yaryna Ingellvar following the War of the Banners. A serious allegation for any member of the Mourn Watch to face. It was not an accusation made without a reasonable degree of evidence that the loss of the undead was borne from a deeper disregard for life and unlife. Emmrich stole a glance at his unexpected companion, attempting to discern from her appearance alone whether Ingellvar, or Rook as she introduced herself, could be capable of such a crime. She had asked him for a moment before ringing the bell, and he watched as she traced necromantic sigils across the boss of her shield, green light shimmering then being absorbed into the mental face .
‘I really should know better than even leave the Lighthouse without armour,’ Rook remarked to Bellara, picking the shield up and turning her attention back to him. ‘What can we expect down there?’
‘Once I start the spell, it will draw attention from any remaining spirits of despair,’ he explained. ‘You’ll need to hold them off while I work - it will take a few minutes for the bell to the gain the momentum it needs for the spell to work.’
‘What does that mean?’ Bellara asked.
‘That it’s going to get cold,’ replied Rook, ‘dependant on how many spirits are left. This might even get more dicey than that ogre.’ She lifted her shield, contemplating it for a moment. ‘Haven’t got the resources for an additional hex-weave, so remember when I use the blade spell, shoot your charged arrows at them to cause an explosion.’ Her attention returned back to Emmrich. ‘Ready when you are.’
He walked to the centre point under the bell while the two women took up defensive positions, Rook slightly ahead of him and Bellara behind. He called the Fade to his fingertips, directing the spell through sweeping movements, channelling the magic upwards and waking the bell as Bellara alerted them to the arrival of Venatori. Out of the corner of his eye, Emmrich caught Rook’s swift movement, the long skirts of her leather coat flying around as she threw her shield behind him, marching after it, eyes on her next target before catching it, turning with it’s momentum and throwing it at her next target.
Throughout the fight, Rook focused on putting herself between Bellara and himself deflected the ranged attacks back at the Venatori in fiery showers of magic.
‘There’s too many of them,’ Bellara called above the fray, multiple demons rising around the room.
‘We just have to hold them off until the bell rings,’ Rook replied watching mist rise from her breath. ‘Professor, how long?’
‘About half way there,’ Emmrich responded.
‘Okay, Bel, keep them in front of you,’ Rook instructed. ‘Keep moving side wards with your back to the wall. Don’t let them get behind you, and on my mark, we’re going to aim for the pride demon. Professor, whatever you have to throw at that thing, please do.’
Rook set off into a run, dodging around two mages that she hit with her shield and followed up with swipe of her sword without losing momentum. Emmrich noted she was fast, covering the space then yelling her signal for Bellara. The roar of magic flew at the demon from three directions, Rook’s magical blades slammed into the Pride spirit, crystal shards sundering the body followed by Bellara’s arrows shattering them in a devastating shower of lightening charged shards exploding out of it’s twisted body. Emmrich followed up, his magic tangling around the remains of the spirit as it continued to lash out; Rook ran at it, kicking it then bringing her shield down as the bell tolled.
The spirits twisted until they evaporated into the Fade. Rook turned, throwing her shield one final time. It spun across the room into the remaining living assailant, striking between the eyes, dead before they even hit the ground.
‘Well, at least we’re not short of bodies for new undead guards,’ she remarked drily, catching Emmrich’s eye as she caught the sheild. She turned her attention to Bellara, walking towards here. ’Told you it would get dicey.’
‘Definitely worse than the ogre,’ Bellara replied. ‘The second one.’
Emmrich watched Rook walk to Bellara, place a hand on her arm. ‘You were brilliant,’ she said, a smile lifting her face.
‘Let’s ensure these cultists didn’t leave anything dangerous behind,’ he said once the two women were done exchanging words.
Rook clipped the shield to a leather strap over her chest and slung it over her shoulder.‘What are we looking for?’
‘Anything out of place,’ Emmrich directed, walking towards one of the alters around the central plaza. ’Scan for any magic that doesn’t belong.’
Under the resonating toll, silence fell across the chamber. Emmrich didn’t know exactly what he was looking for; it would have to be powerful but subtle magic to have been able to pass the wards.
‘And this is…’ Rook announced from the other side of the room. ‘Oh, a Hand of Glory. A real, working Hand of Glory.’
Emmrich turned to see Rook examining her find, the palm close to her eyes.
‘The Venatori should never have this,’ he declared crossing the space to Rook’s side, holding out his hand. ‘I must find out where it came from.’
Rook looked at him, steely-blues eyes met his with her eyebrows raised. Her head tilted to the side, stray locks of her lilac hair brushing her shoulder before she held the artefact out to him. He examined it, the runes carved into its flesh, noting the truncations as Rook watched him, apparently studying him.
‘We should head back up to the Upper Mortuary, I need to report this incursion,’ he said, referring to the headquarters of the Death Callers, pocketing the Hand in his Robes. ‘You can tell me why you’ve sought out a Fade expert on the way?’
‘Of course,’ she said, following him back out the chamber towards the elevator.
He watched her dust off her coat, patting out small puffs of dust from the leather sleeves.
‘I really need to stop leaving the Lighthouse without full armour - getting this repaired would take an age.’ Their eyes met; steely grey-blue eyes gently bore into him. ‘Thought we’d be relatively safe with this one, don’t know why,’ she finished looking at Bellara. ‘The Necropolis is a hive of hidden danger at the best of time.’
‘Especially at present,’ put in Emmrich, ‘if this incident is anything to go by. This way please.’
He led them to the elevator, Rook still dusting down her coat until they were moving upwards.
’So, how is it I can help you?’
‘Yes,’ Rook rubbing her hands together. ‘We, that is to say Bellara, myself and a number of my associates have found ourselves caught up in race to save the world from two blighted Elven gods who escaped from a prison within the Fade. We need a Fade expert to help us understand the nature of that prison and help us make sure the rest of the Blight remains locked away there as well helping us navigate a portion of the Fade known as the Crossroads safely.’
She spoke in a rush as if she had rehearsed what she was going to say a couple of times over. Her gaze had become a challenge; a dare to tell her that she was making things up but Emmrich had seen the changes to the currents of the deeper Fade. He’d even felt it pulling apart several weeks earlier with a fluttering of fearful excitement among some of the more volatile inhabitants.
‘And how do our new friends fit into this?’
Rook blew out breath she had been holding in the aftermath of her speech, relief sparking over her face at not being dismissed out of hand. ’They have aligned themselves with the Gods, doing their bidding.’
‘But why come here?’ Asked Bellara.’What’s here that could interest them?’
‘Bellara, the Necropolis contains powerful, magical relics that have been collected for over a thousand years as well as the raw magic that keeps it alive,’ Emmrich explained gently.
‘And they had vessels for siphoning magic,’ said Rook. ’No doubt the ancient magic here interests the Gods.’
‘Making it more imperative we discover who was behind the Hand of Glory,’ said Emmrich lifting the artefact to his eye line to examine it. ‘Who knows what destruction they could have wrought with it.’
He separated the fingers then turning it over to scrutinise the sigils carved into the flesh hoping they could tell him something about who had it. Bellara’s face screwed up in disgust while Rook’s eyes widened with curiosity, fire kindling in her express as she tilted her head in interest.
‘You’ve never seen one before?’ Emmrich enquired.
Rook focused on him. ‘There’s a dried up, dormant one used in practical demonstrations at the academy. Hardly comparable to an active one. The magic radiating off it -‘
‘Indeed,’ Emmrich said slowly, placing it back in his pocket and returning his full attention to Rook. ’Now, back to your query, navigating the Fade and understanding the nature of a prison within the Fade, how would you expect me to provide you with such insight?’
‘Our base of operations, the Lighthouse, sits within the Fade, built by the creator of the prison. We believe the prison is in close proximity to it,’ explained Bellara, ‘we also have access to where Solas opened the prison. But I can’t convert the information into something we can use. Artefacts are more my thing.’
‘Very your thing,’ put in Rook, placing a hand on Bellara’s upper arm. ‘We need help monitoring the prison, but also, perhaps find a way to return them to that prison.’
Bellara’s head turned sharply. ‘What? I thought we were going to attempt to kill them? After D’Meta’s Crossing and the dragons, Minrathous… It’s why you hired Lucanis.’
Rook squeezed Bellara’s arm, turning the younger woman to face her, expression serious. ’They’re Gods, Bellara,’ she spoke softly. ‘We need options to end this, and we have to consider that if Solas could not kill them, only imprison them, that might be our only way out of this as well.’
‘Solas?’
‘Also known as Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf,’ replied Bellara turning to look at Emmrich.
‘The actual Dread Wolf,’ put in Rook. ‘He was also responsible for tearing the veil open over Ferelden and Orlais ten years ago.’
Emmrich frowned. ‘Then he too needs to be stopped.’
Rook nodded her head. ‘That’s another reason to look at the prison. When Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain escaped, Solas was pulled in - now he’s trapped in the Fade prison, and we’d like it to stay that way.’
‘I will do all that I can to assist you,’ he replied with a resolved nod.