The Winter's Queen [Magus AU]

[Tethras Clan]

"What, uh, what will I be able to do? Are there any other restrictions?" he manages to ask. Inside Carver? Wait. Possess... Carver? Carver-puppet? No, bad Varric, focus.

[GamesMaster]

"YOU WILL BE INCORPOREAL. AND THE NECROMANTIC CONTROLLER WILL NOT BE ABLE TO SEE OR HEAR YOU." 

[Tethras Clan]

"But everyone else can? And I can see her?" Varric confirms. "Will I be able to do ghost attack stuff? Drain energy, or... fear stuff?"

[GamesMaster]

"YOU WILL NOT BE A GHOST. YOU WILL BE A SPIRIT. THERE IS A CHANCE YOU WILL BE ABLE TO INTERACT WITH THE NECROMANTIC ENERGY IN SOME WAY, BUT YOU WILL NOT HAVE ANY NEW ABILITIES AND YOU WILL LOSE MOST OF THE ABILITIES YOU HAD -- THE ONES TIED TO FLESH. YOU WILL BE ABLE TO SEE HER, AND OTHERS HEAR AND SEE YOU."

[Tethras Clan]

"So basically just talking and planning. Fair enough, that's what I'm best at really," he mutters. What else to ask... Ah, right. Well, and the standard 'last' question. "Other than the risk, is this chance going to cost me- or anyone else- anything?"

[GamesMaster]

"IT IS TO CORRECT AN IMBALANCE. THE DEBT WAS THEREFORE PAID IN ADVANCE."

[Tethras Clan]

"...sure," Varric says after a moment. "Alright... what should I ask that I haven't yet?" It's not foolproof, but always a good question to round things off.

[GamesMaster]

"MANY THINGS, AND NONE. I CANNOT MAKE YOUR CHOICES FOR YOU, NOR CAN I ASK YOUR QUESTIONS." There's a sensation of being chided, but gently so. "WHAT IS YOUR DECISION?"

[Tethras Clan]

Worth a shot. "Not really a choice. Not for a father. Let's go," he says with a faint smile.

[GamesMaster]

"THERE IS ALWAYS A CHOICE, VARRIC TETHRAS. THERE IS ALWAYS A CHOICE."

[Helene Dakesh]

The largest mirror that can be found on short notice is laid onto the floor of Zevran's rooms, and chalk drawings are made around it. At Helene's request, Zevran had turned over a book Hawke had leant him, a paperback she'd liked and insisted that he read; Helene had incorporated that into the drawing, and was now reading from the scroll the words of the half-prepared spell. 

The mirror fogs over; Isabela, Zevran, and Helene all lean forward to peer into the depths. The fog takes a long moment to clear, almost long enough that Helene gives up and declares the spell to have failed. Please, Goddess, please, I need to set this right...

The fog clears, and Helene feels that surge of connection that means the spell took hold....

[Marian Hawke]

The spell begins close up to her face: Hawke's face, covered in blood but still hers, still recognizable. That same determined fire burns in her eyes; she is gaunt, and pale, but otherwise herself, clearly herself, blessedly herself. 

Then the scryspot pulls back, to get a wider angle view. 

Hawke's whole frame is gaunt, impossibly so, as if she has been starving long past the point where she should be up and walking around. Her skin is pale as death, slightly blue with frost, and her fingernails are black. Green light plays around her body in an aura, dancing around her hands as she gestures about the temple room.

"Merrill, where have you gone?" Her voice is... oddly detached, calm, cold. As if there's nothing wrong at all. "Merrill? I know you're here somewhere." 

Hawke turns to walk away, and the scryspot lingers behind. After her, coming into view, totters Varric -- oddly silent, but clearly up and walking. 

[Tethras Clan]

"That is... that is not a good look for her. But it appears she is... not entirely changed. She seeks our flower," Zevran says stubbornly. "That's... right. That's what she would do. What Hawke would do."

[Marian Hawke]

"Ah, there you are." The scryspot shifts again, catching her in three-quarters view -- and showing enough of the wall behind her that they can tell she's still in the temple. "Shoo, get away from her. I need to get Aveline back on her feet." Hawke mages a shooing motion with her hand, then stomps forward, as if scaring a wild animal away. Judging by the small, cold smile on her face, it worked -- but what kind of way to treat your lover is that?

"Aveline, darling, it's time to get up." She gestures with one hand, wreathed in green fire; the light shoots forward, out of the frame, before vanishing. Hawke's smile vanishes, replaced by a scowl. "Aveline. I'm not playing. It's time to get up." She gestures again; clearly, it has no better result than the first time. 

Hawke storms forward, clearly angry now, intent on her mission. She kneels, and the spot rotates again--

("I'm going to be sick," mutters Isabela)

to reveal Aveline's pale, lifeless body, her armor dented and torn apart, exposing a bloody, chewed midsection. Entrails stream from her body, and flies buzz around it. She's not moving. She's clearly, utterly, hopelessly dead. 

"Aveline, you stop feigning and get up this instant!" 

[Tethras Clan]

"..." Zevran swallows, hard. "She... she needs our help," he manages. "She just... we can help her. Get her back." Somehow. "We should... we should get to Wynne. She'll know how to... fix this."