Ghost Story

[Marian Hawke]

She whimpers, nodding as she opens her mouth to let him feed her the concoction. 

[NPCs]

While not what most call magic, the alchemical medicine works far more rapidly than a purely mundane equivalent. Or, well, it should. Thirty seconds later, Varric quickly double checks his reagents. "No, that was right-- why aren't you puking like mad?"

[Marian Hawke]

"Dunno," she murmurs. "Feel sick. Wanna puke. Can't."

[Varric]

Can't? Shouldn't have a choice. "Can't how so?" he asks, trying hard to figure this out.

[Marian Hawke]

"Sick, but not sick enough."

[Varric]

Varric feels his blood go cold. That should be enough purgative to make a troll vomit (how is it not working on her). Fuck (what the fuck?). Fine. Fine. "Turn on your side, knees up towards your chest. Breath slow and steady, try and make yourself sick. I have to see if I can find Bethie or stop the fire."

[Marian Hawke]

"...fire?" croaks Emma. 

[Varric]

"Fire," Varric agrees, quickly pulling out pair of beads. "Alright, be very, very careful with this. If anything attacks you, throw them at it. One at a time."

[Marian Hawke]

She closes her fingers around the beads as she frowns. "What fire? What's on fire?!"

[Varric]

"Emma, can you see? Can you feel the grass under you?" Varric asks rapidly, turning halfway back at her questions.

[Marian Hawke]

"Yes-- I see you, I feel-- well the ground feels really far away but I can feel it. What's on fire?"

[Varric]

"The house, Emma."

[Marian Hawke]

Emma stares at him, then looks at the burning house, then back at him. "....no it's not? The house looks fine?"

[Varric]

Varric turns to stare at Emma for a moment, thoughts scattering and reforming rapidly. "Fuck."

Turning back to look at the house reveals a hollowness to the flames, an empty quality that signifies a broken illusion. "Fuck." Without another word, Varric soars back to the house to get to Bethie. Distraction (hellhound and fire both) from the spirit. But how (why is Emma coughing?) did it work? It shouldn't be able to deceive me so consistently (how did Emma see through it?).

(Emma isn't fitting reasonable patterns [please open] or predictions.)

[GamesMaster]

There's a cocoon in the basement. 

Whatever its made of, he can't cut through it; the strands shine like mithril, but they burn to the touch as if they were on fire, and they're shades of red, orange, yellow, and crimson. He can't find Bethie, which means she's likely inside. Judging by the illusions of gore on the walls and floor, so is the phobophage. 

His tinctures don't burn through, nor does holy water seem to do much other than make it smoke a bit. There's nothing he can do to get inside. He'll have to attack this problem on a more spiritual level somehow. 

Heading outside again, he finds Emma where he left her, slumped up against the well. She's coughing again, too, and her skin is pale, her eyes half-closed to brace against whatever is affecting her.