Adventure in the Western Approach, Day 2 (The Still Ruins) [updated 10/28/18 and 11/2/18]
Read Day 1 on Confronting the Grey Wardens
Read Day 3, part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 on CoracavusJust as in the Hissing Waste, Venatori have been sighted throughout the Western Approach looking for artifacts. A small inquisition team investigates an old Tevinter ruin.
After killing the spellbinder that was blocking the door, they cautiously file into the chamber. Dorian wears a frown as he soaks in the horror. Sehareh growls beneath her breath.
Abram in utter bemusement, “Dear Maker!”
Cassandra points down the stairs, “I think I see some movement.”
Abram quickly raises his hand to catch everyone's attention. "Keep your voices down."
Varric whispers, “Someone must have spiked my port because I am seeing things.”
Sera quietly whimpers, “Shite balls! Why do we keep walking into crap.”
Varric to Sera, “Didn’t you read the fine print before signing up with our little soirée?”
Sera nervously, “Swah what? You and Dorian need to stop with the big words!”
Vellalore taps them both on the shoulders as she walks pass them and toward Abram.
Vellalore, “What happened here?”
Abram, “Lets not worry about that right now and focus on the patrols below. Get ready.”
The group draws their weapons and charges down the stairs. They dispatch the handful of marksmen and zealots with ease. Sera gives off a nervous giggle soon after.
Sehareh, “Let it out Sera.”
Sera giggles wearily, “This is not normal.”
Cassandra, “What is this place?”
Dorian, “I presumed this was a place of learning.”
Varric, “You mean experimentation.”
Dorian, “Learning requires some experimentation so you’re partly right.”
Varric sarcastically, “Ha!”
Cassandra snarls, “With lots of blood magic apparently.”
Abram, “Dorian, why does this feel familiar to me?”
Dorian, “It’s a variant of time magic. Alexius used it to send us back in time. Here time slowed to a snail’s pace, relegating to what could’ve been a quick slaughter for these poor bastards.”
Cassandra, “They deserve a slow death for bringing the demons through."
Dorian, “That sounds cruel and unusual for you Cassandra."
Cassandra, "True. Only Maker knows what we deserve. This seemed to be their fate."
Sehareh, “Are the Venatori looking to bring these wretched things to life?”
Abram, “I think Corypheus is more interested in time manipulation. He will harness that magic to breach the fade or erase us from history all together which Alexius failed to do.”
Sera, “And Dorian was trying to convince me to like magic!”
Dorian, “Not everyone is like Coryphefish my dear.” He turns to Abram, “We should search about a bit.”
Abram, “Lets spread out but stay close in case we get flanked. Once they see the dead mage by the door, they will know we are in here.”
Varric, “You mean all the other bodies lying across the sand leading to the door like breadcrumbs will not give us away?”
Abram, “Uh, so your point is that we better hurry."
Varric, “You got that right, your inquisitorialist."
The group scatters across the main chamber. Vellalore walks up to a frozen Terror demon and slowly reaches out.
Dorian yells, “Please don’t touch anything.”
Vellalore quickly retracts her hand, “I have never seen one this close without blasting it to hell first.”
Sera to Vellalore, “Nothing to know. They are all ugly.”
Vellalore, “Right.”
Vellalore then walks toward the center of the room where a motionless despair demon suspends beneath the fade rift. Sehareh also moves toward the center in a flanking position.
Vellalore, “My mark is not working.”
Abram, “Let me try.”
Abram walks up beside her and lifts up his hand to the rift.
Abram, “Whatever they used to slow time is hindering our marks.”
Dorian, “Aren’t you a smart one.”
Abram smirks, “Alright, lets keep looking.”
Still in a nervous fit, Sera studies the frozen zealots.
Sera laughs, “They don’t have breeches! None of them have breeches or much clothes on!”
Dorian speaks aloud, “Skin is very fashionable where we come from. Inquisitor, try not to stare.”
Abram yells from somewhere across the room, “I was hardly looking."
Varric yells back, "Now that's a lie."
Varric scans around, “I can imagine my protagonist making his final stand against a group of…uh…something or someones in a hall such as this.”
Abram, “Working on an ending?”
Varric, “Just collecting ideas. Who has time to write when there is so much killing to do.”
Cassandra, “Well don’t blurb out what you might write. I don’t want to know.”
Varric, “It helps me think when I speak out loud. Maybe you can help. I’ve been trying to figure out how the love affair between Ser Cailan and….”
Cassandra runs off, “I’m not listening!”
Abram, “You need to stop teasing her.”
Varric, “Why?
Abram, “Because you might find yourself hanging by your toes naked.”
Varric, “Why naked?”
Abram shrugs, “For dramatic effect?”
Varric, “I can see that.”
The group meticulously searches each room, stashing loot and notes along the way. Abram and Dorian finds themselves alone.
Abram, “When this place is clear, I’m going to have Cullen or Leliana send men back to recover the books and tomes.
Dorian, “At least these will make for finer reading.”
Abram shoots him a look, “If you find my selection insufficient, you should take over for the librarian.”
Dorian, “Ha! If I did, who else would’ve dreamed of acquiring the anthology of dwarven poetry?”
Abram, “I haven’t read that one yet.”
Dorian, “Yes it was delightful. There are dozens of poems dedicated to fried mush and nug.”
Abram’s stomach growls.
Dorian, “Quite a response. I don’t know how you can fight on an empty stomach.”
Abram, “Anger feeds me.”
Dorian, “You shouldn’t make that your steady diet amatus. This is the fifth time you've forgotten to eat.”
Abram, "You were counting?"
Dorian, "I only count when it matters, like my winnings and other's poor fashion choices. You”ll need the energy for the tougher fights ahead.”
Abram, "You’re right. Would you remind me to eat?”
Dorian, “I'll do better. I'll shove a bowl of grub in front of your face. The faster we are done here, the sooner you can have a decent meal and a thorough shave.”
Abram pulls Dorian toward him to give a tender kiss.
Dorian, “Can we go somewhere a bit more romantic next time.”
Abram grins, “Soon, I promise.”
The other members join them by the door at the far end of the hall. Sehareh cracks open the door and hears orders being shouted out.
Sehareh, “Venatori in the courtyard”
Cassandra, “How many?”
Sehareh, “I can’t see from here. We will need to step outside.”
They huddle against the wall as they step through the threshold.
Sehareh, “Just a handful. No problem.”
Sera, “They are going to get a fistful of arrows.”
Dorian, “That’s the spirit. Be careful with that one though, the one barking orders.”
Sera, “He’ll get arrows too.”
Dorian, “Fine but shoot from behind a broken column or something.”
The group flows down the stairs into danger. They exchanged blasts and blows until the inquisition stood alone.
Abram picks up piece of relic from the dead spellbinder, “What is this?”
Dorian, “Ah, a keystone similar to the ones used to open other magic imbued doors.”
Abram grunts, “I hate these things. That means we will need more than one.”
Cassandra, “I see a room to the far right. There could be some there.”
Sehareh, “Let me check the other end of the courtyard for any keystones.”
As they search the rooms, they uncover an unknown manuscript and more notes about an experiment.
Cassandra, “Were they trying to breach the fade like the magisters of old?”
Sehareh, "All the notes suggest that they want to tap into the powers and energy of the Fade but ended up creating a breach. If this research was done a long time ago, would it coincide with the second blight?"
Dorian, "The chantry tale say that seven magisters had the knowledge on how to enter the fade. Secretly they devised a plan so I doubt that they left instructions for others to follow. These here are...were...Tevinter researchers poking at theories. They were more than likely looking to accumulate power than wanting a midnight stroll in the Golden City."
Vellalore looking mortified, “If their experiment did not fail, who knows how far they would have come to walk the fade like Corypheus. So many slaves sacrificed for their damn blood magic. This has to stop."
Abram, “Blood magic, red lyrium...we need to stop it all or at least die trying.”
Dorian frets, “Please don’t say die.”
Abram, “I’m sorry.”
The group returns to the courtyard. With the collected keystones, Dorian opens the door to an altar. In the center is a staff radiating with dark magic. They trickle into the room. Abram and Vellalore stares at the staff.
Varric, “Take all the time you need Inquisitors. Time literally stands still for you.”
Vellalore, “We must take the staff or the Venatori will claim it for Corypheus.”
Dorian, “I agree.”
Abram, “I don’t want to rush into this without a plan.”
Varric, "The plan is to take the staff. It is really that simple."
Sera, "Can't we leave it and bury this whole shitty place?"
Dorian, "The Venatori would only dig it back up. Well, the slaves will be doing the digging."
Varric, "Sparkles is right Buttercup. Tevinters hardly lifts a finger."
Dorian, "You have to conjure magic to move the heavier structures so you can hardly say we don't lift a finger or two."
Abram, “Tell me if I'm correct Dorian. Once the staff is removed, time should return to the present speed.”
Dorian, “You are such a good pupil. That is exactly the way it will turn out.”
Sera, “Then that also means the things that were frozen will not be anymore.”
Dorian, “Time might've stood still but the seconds continues to tick. The humans will be turned into dust when time returns to normal while the demons....well....” Dorian shrugs.
Vellalore, “Will our marks work against the rift?”
Dorian, “Yes, it should.”
Abram, “Alright. I’ll grab the staff. Best if everyone steps away from the altar.”
Dorian, “Be careful.”
Abram, “No promises. Nothing good usually comes out of ripping magic away from its source.”
Cassandra, “Is that a slight on mages who got turned tranquil?”
Abram, “Not the time for a debate Cassandra."
Cassandra, "But you had time to listen to Hawk and Stroud argue?"
Abram, "I learned quite a bit of history through their bicker and how we should deal with the grey wardens. I doubt I will learn much from these demons."
Abram licks his lips, takes a couple of deep breathes and yanks the staff away, releasing the spell. Sehareh and Cassandra raises their shields to protect the group from falling debris. Abram is left exposed. He ducks away from a large chunk of ceiling but cries out when he is knocked down by a large stone crashing against his pauldron.
Dorian, “Amatus!”
Vellalore, “Abram!”
Cassandra, “Are you alright Inquisitor?”
Abram grunts, “So much easier dodging a charger than a roof. This will hurt far more later.”
They lift Abram up onto his feet. He hands Vellalore the staff.
Vellalore, “This doesn’t seem like an elven artifact.”
Dorian, “Not from Tevinter either.”
Varric, “I hate to detract you from your shiny new toy but something is stirring outside.”
Sehareh, “Sera, here’s another chance to show them what you think of magic.”
Sera, “Arrows in their faces!”
Cassandra, “Works for me.”
Vellalore, “I will go first. I can control the crowd.”
Abram glances over at his mates with weapons already drawn, “Lead the way dear sister.”