The Winter's Queen [Magus AU]

[Carver Amell]

"...Oathspeaker, Marithi, and Magnus. I mean, zi'Oathspeaker, zi'Marithi, and zi'Magnus. Need to get word to them." He'd say more, but first he emits a huge yawn. 

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene's shoulders relax a bit. "Understood. Many thanks, Beinn Varric." 

[Tethras Clan]

~Mind grabbing Bright Lelldorin? Probably our best bet for getting more support and such,~ Varric suggests.

"Aww," Zevran says from the doorway, arm around Isabela's waist. She's much recovered but he's hovering a little.

[Carver Amell]

"I'll get--" he pauses, blinking up at Zevran, his sculpted, bare chest easy to see for the half-drow. "What?" 

[Tethras Clan]

"You wear boxers to bed," Zevran says with a sigh.

[Carver Amell]

He frowns. What? Is that supposed to be-- Then recalls Helene, and makes a disgusted face. "What the fuck?!" I am not interested in little girls!

[Tethras Clan]

"You do recall they're an adult, likely far older than any of us save Varric?" Zevran comments dryly. "I would not presume to speculate in detail, but I would think the Seeker is aware of what a humans of both genders look like unclothed. I was more hoping to see you all flustered and bashful."

[Carver Amell]

"Yes, well, if playtime's over," he snarks, "I'm to get Bright Lelldorin and, you know, maybe prevent the end of the world?" Ugh, I can't stand him looking at me like that. 

[Tethras Clan]

"If you can't take a moment to laugh, what's the point?" Zevran offers, though he does move to help Isabela out of the room. Without seeming like he's helping, a ploy he attempts by resting the supporting arm around her waist a fair bit lower than is standard for just being helpful.

[GamesMaster]

Carver shoes Helene out and dresses; Helene manages to send a few catfolk with messages, all of whom assure them they can stay out of trouble and keep to the rooftops to avoid the undead. They gather around the mirror they requested, as Helene casts the scrying once more.


"No, no no no, no no no," moans the lich, and her voice, her voice is Marian's, through and through. 

"I have to-- I have to get ahold of myself," she orders, her tone more cold, more dispassionate. 

"Merrill," she whimpers, doubling over, holding her gut, her voice a moan of pure agony. 

"Mistress?" It's not Varric's voice, but it comes from his lips anyway. The dwarf stands a short distance away from where Marian paces, frowning faintly, watching her. 

"I-- it's Hawke, you call me Hawke," she says, her voice that odd, distant, faraway tone she gets during her shocky episodes. 

"Hawke?" Varric's voice is more insistent this time, for all that it's still a croak of rust and gravestones.

"Yes, that's right, papa." She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "I have to-- what do  I do? What do I ever, ever do?" Her voice tinges on the edge of hysteria, despite her attempts to calm herself.

"Live." comes the reply.  

[Tethras Clan]

~It's splintering,~ Varric murmurs. ~Badly. I think our next step, if we can do it, is to kill my corpse. We pull that off, in front of he- it, the lich will freeze. Only for a moment or two, tops, but that might be enough to get an opening. And then get someone facing the full wrath of an undead winter. So we'll need something sturdy for that part. We need more bodies. Zevran and Isabela can dish it out, but we need healers and heavies.~

[Carver Amell]

"We need healers and heavies," says Carver quietly. "Then we need to take out that dwarf." 

[GamesMaster]

"Yes," murmurs the lich. "I will live. I will find Zevran. We will-- my family will be whole again. Even if I have to destroy every other family in the city to do it." 

"You need heavies?" comes a voice from behind them: the catfolk who healed them the day before. "And healers?"

[Tethras Clan]

"I assume you know someone? They'd need to be able to stand up to wraiths and ghasts at the least. Probably nastier things," Zevran points out.

~We need a few detachments of guard to be honest,~ Varric comments. ~A distraction, something to get its focus while we slip in and decapitate the leader.~ Figuratively and literally.

[GamesMaster]

The cat straightens, his tail cricking a little. "I know someone. There's a potion I make," he begins, eyeing Zevran. "Let me begin again: I am Nikolaos, apprentice to zi'Huntinghawk."