Ghost Story

[Varric]

"Emma!" Varric's head snaps up and he looks around rapidly. "Em-- Marian! Where are you? Can you focus on me? Focus on my voice, as hard as you can!"

[Marian Hawke]

"Oh, I see it now," says the strange, disjointed voice. "Em. Aye. Emma. My initials. Marian Amell."

A peal of thunder, louder this time, closer. Rain begins to fall near him, and then on him -- and then he realizes it's not rain, it's demon spit, acidic like the blood, pouring from the clouds above like raindrops.

[Varric]

"Silence, danger!" 

Warning given, Varric snaps his hand out to summon Bianca and moves to stand back to back with the mabari. "Marian, try to come to us! Quickly!"

[GamesMaster]

The sky darkens and darkens, until it's practically night, acid raining down on them from all around. There's a scream from inside the house, which is suddenly aflame once more. 

[Varric]

Varic doesn't bother to call for Silence to follow; she's a mabari, of course she's right behind him as he bolts for the house with blood in his ey.

[GamesMaster]

There's no smoke inside the house, but there's heat, and worse, there's demons: little imps, the kind you might see in a primer about the Nine Hells, sketched in all black so as not to frighten children unduly. He ignores them, racing for the basement, because of course she's in the basement. 

In the basement he gets his first really good look at the so-called phobophage, away from the mist and out of the darkness. The creature is maybe ten feet long, if you count the tail, which he does as it's currently curled around Emma's -- Marian's -- throat. It stalks on two legs with a lean body, two more arms held off the ground like a raptor's as it prepares to lash out. Its head bears a single long fin that protrudes over its back, and it hisses, drooling acid as it spies Varric entering.

Marian's eyes are wide, and she holds her breath, terrified to move, terrified to so much as breathe deeply.

[Varric]

"Let her go," Varric says very, very softly. "Let her go, leave this house and never return. Or I swear on my soul that I will devote my life to hunting you down and killing you forevermore."

[GamesMaster]

The tail tightens around her throat, the tip of it snaking between her lips. She stops breathing, though whether it's from fear or choking is hard to tell; her eyes glaze as the flashback takes her, trembling in fear. 

[Varric]

"Wrong answer, fuckwad," Varric snarls with acidic hatred in his voice. He's a seasoned adventurer however, so his words come after the flurry of bolts are already flashing across the space between them. He's aiming not for the best chance of damage or even to hit but rather at a spot on the demon that would be best and most naturally blocked by using the tail.

[GamesMaster]

To his horror, the demon blocks -- with Marian's body. The bolt pierces her chest, and she screams, a scream muffled by the tail forcing its way into her mouth. Then her body goes limp, and the demon throws her aside, her body hitting a wall and sliding down it. There's no time to fret or mourn, however, as the demon leaps forward, bowling Varric over as it makes for the wall behind him. 

Varric keeps shooting. No matter what, he keeps shooting. The world becomes simple: aim. Fire. Aim. Fire. Aim. Fire. He doesn't even worry about dodging, just aim. fire. Aim. Fire. 

The creature makes it to the ceiling, bolts sticking in its flesh as it crawls across the surface. Then it drops onto Varric once more, hissing acid in his face. That tail, that damnable tail, sinks into Varric's chest just as his bolt pierced Marian's, just as Helene's dagger sunk into nir own chest, just as Carver's blade sank into Marian's chest so long ago. 

It's been such a long time... it's time to rest now.

[Varric]

But he can't. He wants to. He really, truly wishes he could just stop fighting, stop marking time until he can see his Clan and family again. He misses not just Helen, but his mother as well. But... but he can't. 

"Emma," Varric grits out, the word mostly lost in the froth of bloody bubbles on his lips. Can't... give up yet. Have... to be sure.. 

[Marian Hawke]

Varric?

Varric!

A bright light forces him to close his eyes; the next thing he knows, the weight of the creature is gone from above him, and he can breathe easier. And it's cold. Very, very cold. 

"Varric! Dammit, live! Get out of here!"

There's an exit, if he's willing to take it. He can feel it, if he just moves sideways from where he's laying, he'll be free of her, out of the dream. Awake. But as his eyes focus again, he can see the pair locked in struggle, covered in a thick layer of ice that holds them together -- and away from himself. She's not winning, not by a long shot; the creature's tail is locked around her waist, and its wicked claws are inches away from her gut as it wiggles, trying to break the ice so it can hit her. 

[Varric]

"Not alone!" Varric roars, no longer allowing himself to be limited in volume by petty things like punctured lungs and blood filled throats. "Not! Again!" Bianca twists in his hand, melting into a mining hammer. Stumbling a step forward, then another, he twists and swings at the waist to build up momentum as he was taught in the mines. The small, round nub on the front end of the heavy hammer hits the demon at the base of the spine, just above that fucking tail.

[Marian Hawke]

The creature shatters as the hammer hits the ice, and a bright light fills the room. 

"Varric. I love you. Thank you."

The words echo in his mind as he slowly comes to in his ritual room... alone. No Silence. No Emma. Just himself. 

[Varric]

Varric struggles to remember how to breath, to exhale without choking, to inhale without gasping for every scrap of air. It takes him a solid minute before he can do anything but focus on living. Afterwards, he struggles upright, looking around. "Emma? Marian? Marian?"