Due to the, fantastic events that’ve happened to me within the last four years, and the new position I currently find myself in I have decided to, once again, start keep a journal. My name is Blaine Gloomstalker, an Archeologist by training and trade, a Half-Drow by birth and an orphan by my unknown parents choice. My youth in Baldur’s Gate is not really worth going into. I got into and out of as much trouble as is to be expected of a youth growing up in such a city. That said, I DID catch a break that changed my life. A wizard decided I would make a good errand boy, and I apparently did well enough that he eventually began allowing me to tag along on his ‘outings’ which usually involved some forgotten font of knowledge and/or treasure. I got a taste for treasuring hunting, a knack for dungeon diving and, eventually, a chance at an education that resulted in me becoming an Archeologist.
Things really changed for me well into my new career in the year 1492 Dale Reckoning. I and my mentor were exploring the ruins of, what we thought, was a Drow city much closer to the surface than usual that served a god other than Lloth, Queen of Spiders. We discovered a number of artefacts with writing that was unfamiliar to either of us. In particular, a Long sword hilt with a number of unfamiliar runes, strange construction and no blade. We bagged and tagged everything then slept in preparation to make our way home the next morning.
This proved to be a mistake, as they came for us while we rested.
I didn’t know the identity of my captors until I was in a cell with other prisoners, in some kind of Underdark outpost, with my mentor nowhere in site. The Priestess who ran the outpost took great delight in informing us all that we were property of the Drow, and could look forward to being taken to their city in the not too distant future. What followed were days of humiliation, pain, and hunger as they tried to grind any spark of resistance we might have within us, out under their heel.
IIvara, the priestess mentioned previously and leader of this monstrous band, took great delight in having me beat often due to my mixed heritage, and tendency to mouth off when she brought it up as a negative. We eventually used that to escape. One of our cellmates got free of their bonds in the night, then freed a few others. I began talking loudly about Ilvara, and really all Drow’s, heritage in admittedly a disparaging way. That brought in an arrogant guard who was eager to explain to me all the ways I was wrong. The now freed Dragonborn caught the guard and proceeded to give a beautiful demonstration on just HOW wrong said guard was about the superiority of the Drow race.
With the guard disposed of and us out of the cell we began taking action. Our sneakier members managed to snag our gear, while killing some more of our captors. I was of course given the seemingly useless hilt from the archeological site, a crossbow and some crossbow bolts off the downed guard and told to stay out of the way, since I wasn’t a fighter. Well, whenever I’d been out of my cell in the previous days I’d….felt drawn to this hilt….connected to it in some strange fashion. It was my connection to it that allowed us to locate our gear and now….I could almost hear it….as if it were whispering something to me.
Our luck turned and an alarm was about to be raised. My crossbow didn’t have the range…but I knew I did. I raised my hand and a blast of Emerald light lanced from my palm and struck a fleeing guard in the back with just enough force to send him over the edge, giving the spiders below a fresh treat. I recall staring at my hand in shock….and then our Myconid, Shoor, brought my attention to my hilt…which now had a sturdy well made blade attached to it.
Well, shocking as that development was we had no real time to consider how it happened or it’s implications, which describes a lot of my time in the Underdark. From then on we were running, fighting and surviving. The blade teaching me new powers in it’s silent way, and some of my companions taking the time to build some swordsmanship skills in me. I won’t say we were all close, ours was an alliance born of necessity, but we looked out for one another, and kept each other sane even when the demons began making themselves known.
We did make it to the surface, though…not all who began with us, survived to that point.
I immediately headed back to the Sword Coast and Candle Keep, intending to figure out this strange blade, it’s powers and it’s source. I never made it.
One night I was sleeping in my tent alongside a Merchant Caravan and their guards and the next morning I awoke in unfamiliar lands. At first I thought the Caravan had just left me behind, but the lack of tracks and the fact I was on the edge of, what I now know to be, the Korcari Wilds quickly convinced me that was not in fact the case.
My confused wanderings eventually lead me to an old woman named Flemmeth, who seemed rather amused with me, but was also willing to give me some direction. She was kind enough to allow me to stay with her for a few days, get my feet under me…adjust to the fact I was NOT on Faerun but a place called Thedas and by their reckoning it was 9:39 Dragon.
Oh…and there was a war going on between Mages and Templars…..
Honestly I don’t think I really believed her until I made it to the Hinterlands and saw the differences in this world from my own, and the conflict between Mages and Templars for myself.
Obviously, looking as I did (knife-ears and all) and tossing out strange magic didn’t win me a lot of favors at first with the locals. However once it became clear I was more interested in defending myself and innocents over settling whatever score the Mages/Templars had against one another, the locals became…cautiously optimistic about me.
Now I am no hero, but I am also not inclined to stand by when a small child is about to get killed for the terrible crime of being between two sides that REALLY want to annihilate one another. That and a few similar actions were enough to get me a reputation with the locals, which drew the eye of a Mercenary company that was in the area. Obviously I could use the coin, so I became their ‘Apostate Battle Mage’.
As you can see, that degree I worked so hard for is really paying for itself.
Anyways, it seems the Divine Justinia has called for a Conclave to settle this dispute between Mages and Templars, peacefully. My merry band of mercs have been hired to provide protection and honestly I am delighted. With a little luck this fighting will end and Perhaps I can earn enough coin to begin figuring out HOW I got here and then find a way back to Faeurn.
‘Okay…not good.’
He instead closed his eyes and turned inward, feeling for the sword within him, sensing that nugget of power, that conduit to so much more and found himself taken aback. Ever since he’d arrived in Thedas he’d noticed a slight change to his magic. In Faeurn once he’d expended himself he’d need to sit down and rest before he could caste anything major again, but upon arriving here…it felt like his mystic strength was returning even when he was being fairly active. He’d theorized it had something to do with the Fade, but between just surviving and dealing with so many rapid changes he hadn’t yet had a chance to really study the issue.
The mark flared again as he explored that conduit of power and was frankly shocked at what he felt. Normally, the power was strong but distant, like looking at approaching thunderstorms on a clear summers day. Now….now it felt like he was standing in the eye of a hurricain, and all he needed to do was reach out channel that power all around him.
He opened his eyes and adjusted his sitting position, getting comfortable. Noting that he was still dressed in his clothing and breastplate. As he moved he felt his special necklace pressing against his chest, meaning it was still under his Jerkin, which was good. A glance to his left showed his other sword was sheathed and tucked behind the legs of one of his guards, which wasn’t so good.
His mind was considering his options as the door opened and his captors immediately sheathed their swords. Lavender eyes regarded the two new arrivals, human women, as they approached. The cute one, auburn haired regarded him cautiously but also curiously. Her companion stalked around him like an angry Displacer Beast.
“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now?”
The Half-Drows mouth began moving well before his mind formed a reasoned response. “I am absolutely sure I could give you a number of great reasons not to kill me….but since I don’t know WHY I’m even bound I am at a bit of a disadvantage.”
The short haired woman stopped cold, glaring before grabbing the Half-Drow “You Jest….at a time like this?!” getting in his face. Her hand seizing his marked arm “With this on your hand?”
“I repeat….I don’t know what is going on!” his lavender eyes peering into her own, seeing anger but more than anything, loss. “Or what that is.” His voice softening a bit.
“You’re lying!” she was grabbed and pulled back by her companion well before her pain could push her anger into physical violence.
“Cassandra!” she began voice loud then dropping low as she leaned in, speaking into her ear “We need him.”
Cassandra glared at him, but then seemed to get a hold of her anger, as the Aubrun haired woman spoke. “There was…an explosion at the Conclave. Everyone, Mages, Templars….the Divine…is dead.”
“Except for you!” the naked bitterness in Cassandra’s words nearly sent a shiver down Blaine’s back.
Blaine nodded, finally beginning to understand his predicament, and the weight of what all those deaths meant. “I assume, the rest of ‘Haven’s Heroes’ are amongst the dead?”
Cassandra blinked, looking a little unsure as she turned to her Companion “Leliana?”
The other woman’s voice softened further “They are….you were with them?…you’re not wearing their colors?”
Blaine favored her with a sad smile “I am, if you’ll take a look at my sword over their you’ll see that the sheath and strap match the colors of the ‘Heroes’.” One of the guards snatched up the weapon in question and brought it to Leliana, who nodded to Cassandra after an examination. “If it helps, my name is Blaine Gloomstalker. I’m pretty sure Marisha would’ve listed me in the official contract, she was a stickler about that kind of thing.”
“She did, and you match the description she gave in said contract.” Leliana added, handing the weapon to Cassandra.
“Well, here’s one reason for you, Cassandra. Captain Stark was a good man. He took care of his people, honored his deals, and gave me a place on his team despite barely knowing me. He’d tell me the Jobs not done, thus we’re not done….and it won’t be done until I figure out who killed him and the people we were supposed to protect.”
Cassandra pursed her lips before nodding at one of the guards, who immediately moved to remove the chains binding the Half-Drow. “Leliana, go to the forward camp….I will take him to the rift.” She watched as the half-Drow stood, briefly arching an eyebrow as she noticed he stood an inch taller than her, and was more solidly built than she’d expect an elf to be, but had skin and eye color no human she’d ever seen could come by naturally. His stark white hair had been worked into dreads that were neatly bound together and fell to about shoulder height. She turned and headed outside, as he followed quickly, wrist still bound together via rope.
He winced as he stepped out into daylight then paused as he saw the tear in the sky, his jaw dropped open “By the Abyss!” Cassandra turned, seeing the wind catch his dark brown jacket, revealing his Breastplate over a black jerking and white shirt, along with dark pants and boots. “An explosion caused THAT?!” he turned his gaze to her and in that moment, she made a choice.
“Apparently it can.” The Mark on his hand and the breech flared, the pain driving him down to one knee. “We….think the mark on your hand can seal it…stop the things coming through it…but it’s dangerous…but if you do nothing….that mark will likely kill you….and the creatures pouring through will kill us.”
Blaine closed his eyes, working through the pain, just like he’d learned to do during the beatings back in his Underdark prison. “Then let’s get that thing closed.” He let out a breath and stood, and blinked as he saw Cassandra, knife out and his sheathed blade under her arm. She took his wrists and cut them free, before handing him his weapon.
He reached out, grasping it as she locked gazes with him. “The valley is dangerous…you will need your weapon…” she appeared about to say more but instead let go of the sheath, which he slung over his back, cinching the strap.
With a shared Look the Seeker and the Half-Drow made their way into the Valley.
****
I found myself swimming to consciousness after a dreamless sleep. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling while trying to force my fuzzy mind to clear and put the jumbled mess of my recent memories into a viable order.
Cassandra and I worked our way towards the valley together, picking up and Elf name Solas, who apparently knew enough about the Fade to keep the mark from killing me in my sleep. Then a Dwarf (without a beard) named Varric who made use of a rather impressive looking crossbow, and seemed to have a real talent for getting under Seeker Cassandra’s skin. Afterwards their was an argument with Chancellor Roderick, more fighting through the valley that involved closing more rifts and rescuing trapped soldiers, and my companions surprise at the magic I could wield. Apparently summoning a sword from thin air then charging it with arcane energy to smite a demon was somewhat unusual. Solas had calmed everyone else’s mind by likening it to ancient elven techniques used by Arcane Warriors…which I made a mental note to ask him about later, as the subject sounded rather interesting.
Also assuming there would BE a later was the kind of mindset I wanted to be in at the time.
When we finally reached the epicenter of the blast, the fade had a new surprise for us. Somehow it played an echo of what happened before…showing me coming to the aid of The Divine which was seemingly enough to clear the last lingering doubts about the myself in the eyes of Cassandra. So I decide not to question it then and there.
What followed was a desperate fight against a rather Large demon, and it’s summoned allies. Faerie Fire, and a liberal application of Eldritch blast backed up by archers, the power of Solas, bolts from Varric and Cassandra and her fellow soldiers going toe-to-toe with the thing was clearly whittling it down…but the sheer number of demons pouring through the breech was starting to turn things against us. It was getting bad enough that I was considering drawing the sword on my back…or even using my necklace.
Thankfully neither proved necessary. Drinking from my conduit I replenished myself and then used ‘Misty Step’ to get between the rather large demon and it’s summoned horde, dropped a hex on it, then summoned ‘The Arms of Hadar’. Normally that last spell causes…wet, alien, and horrifying limbs of some kind to enter the world and start smacking anything nearby around. I haven’t actually needed to caste that since I arrived in Thedas so I was caught by surprise when instead of wet tentacles I got Ribbons of golden energy that, when they first appeared, briefly looked like angelic wings, before proving to be no less wrathful than what I am used to using.
The….’Ribbons of Hadar?’ decimated the horde and put the large demon on it’s rear…which gave me enough time to close the breech, an effort that knocked me out…and when I woke up….well….once again things had changed.
Haven, 3 Days later
“I beg for your forgiveness and your blessing.”
Blaine stared incredulously at the elf currently debasing herself on the floor as he sat on the bed.
“They say you saved us, the breach stopped growing…just like the mark on your hand.”
“That’s good….great in fact….now please….stand up.” He shifted as various aches and pains made themselves known, scooting forward enough to plant his bare feet on the floor after whipping the bed sheet aside.
The female elf looked up, saw him and then caste her head back down. “The breech is still in the sky…” she continued “….but for now…we are safe…thanks to you!” She finally started to stand and began backing away, face a mix of awe and terror. “Lady Cassandra awaits you in the Chantry your grace.”
“Wait…you…” he began but she was already at the door.
“I should tell her you’re awake….she said to notify her when you’re awake….at once!” She was all but babbling at the point, before making a rather hasty exit.
Blaine rubbed his temples as he sat in the small but well furnished room for a moment, just listening, and considering what that young woman’s reaction. His mind drifting back to the fight with the demon and what had happened when he caste ‘Arms of Hadar’.
He held out his left hand, palm up and let power flow into it, preparing to fire an Eldritch blast. The energy formed, coallsced and was held…but it was not Verdant like it’d been every single time he’d used it before. Now…it was gold, just like the arms.
The Half-Drow let the energy fizzle away harmlessly as he sat forward, thinking. Holding out his right handed he summoned the sword. That incredulous look returning as his hands seemingly grasped a shaft of light that morphed into his weapon. It had always been well crafted but now it’s blade was polished to a mirror shine, while the hilt and cross guard looked like something a god of goods chosen Paladin would carry into hell to smite evil. As he watched runes glowed gold along the blades surface then faded away, leaving him staring at his own reflection. He dismissed the weapon and it which glowed so brightly then fell apart into motes of light.
“Oookay….talk to Cassandra, then start figuring out why…THIS….is happening.” With that he stood and began gathering his things. Clearly someone had been taken care of him and his supplies. Everything was freshly cleaned and polished to the point it looked almost brand new. For a panicked moment he clutched at his neck, and found it bare. Glancing about frantically he spotted his necklace and sighed in relief as he spotted it sitting atop the barrel that’d been converted into a bed side stand. He quickly put it on then secured it under his Jerkin and began dressing, and once done headed for the door.
He all but froze when he saw what was waiting for him outside.
A small crowd had gathered, all their eyes on him, whispering as the soldiers saluted, while he passed
“That’s him, the Herald of Andraste!”
“They say he summoned wings of light to beat back the demon horde!”
“He looks kind of like a tall elf.”
“And? Elf’s are children of the Maker too!”
“So he closed the Breech? Well that’s more than anyone else has done.”
“My sisters a soldier, was with him at the Temple, said he summoned a sword blessed by Andraste herself!”
“I heard he’s descended from a Holy Warrior elf bloodline, ones that served the Maker before the fall!”
Blaine tried to pick up his pace a bit without looking like he was trying to pick up the pace.
“The Chantry has declared us all heretics!”
“That just shows they’ve lost their way!”
“Clearly the Maker sent us an Elf to shame us for allowing them to be treated so badly.”
“I hear he’s a Half-Elf, proof that we’re all ONE under the maker.”
The door to the Chantry closed behind him, cutting off the whispered murmurs of the crowd. “I miss just being an Archeologist.” He muttered under his breath “It was nice, exploring forgotten tombs, avoiding deadly traps, painstaking research, all in the Nobel pursuit of knowledge and lost history….” He shook his head as he passed by the stone pillars of the Chantry, heading for the far door.
Which burst open As a very annoyed Chancellor Roderick marched out under a full head of steam. Blaine stepped aside. “Chancellor.” He greeted in an attempt to be pleasant and received only a withering glare in replay as the man stormed past The Half-Drow, who could only raise an eyebrow at the retreating back.
Turning back, Blaine headed for the door the Chancellor just burst through. Pushing into the room he found Cassandra with her back to him, running fingers through her hair, while Leliana paced, arms folded across her chest. “I take it Roderick is still determined to see me in chains?”
Cassandra scoffed “That short sighted bureaucrat wants to wait for the election of a new divine before we do anything.” She turned, looking at him “We simply can not let this…chaos go on for so long.”
Blaine inclined his head before moving to sit on the edge of the table. “I don’t disagree. I mean we still don’t understand HOW the breech was opened in the first place, or who’s responsible.”
“Exactly.” Leliana piped up as she turned to face them both “The Divine gave us a writ” she uncrossed her arms and tapped a thick tome that sat atop the table. “It grants us the authority to act, to close the breach, find the ones responsible and restore order.” She took a deep breath Blaine folded his arms across his chest. “And now we must do that with no leader, no numbers and no Chantry support”
“So you need to build allies.” The Warlock reached for the writ, taking a moment to scan what it said.
“Correction….WE need allies.” Cassandra said, pointing at Blaine, who looked up from the book, surprise evident on his face. “You said your jobs not done until you find the ones who killed your people and the ones you were hired to protect.”
Lavender eyes stared into her own for a long moment. “I did say that, and I did mean it…I’m just not sure what help I can be to you beyond closing rifts and killing a demons. I mean you said it.” His gaze flicking to the Spymaster “You need a lot more than I can provide.”
“You sell yourself short. As the Herald of Andraste, your name already draws attention, and your actions draw support.” Cassandra replied, ignoring the deepening frown on his face as he closed the writ with a snap as he turned to look at her. “This gives us a solid foundation upon which to build…if you will help us.” Holding out her hand to him
Blaine set the writ down and stood, looking at them both, before nodding. “I’ll do my best to aid you.” Taking the offered hand. “But I can’t promise to be much good at politics.”
“We have people in mind, just you wait and see.”
Notes:
Been having a lot of trouble with this one, but the core idea of bringing a DnD Archeologist over to Thedas appeals to me...especially when said Archeologist is a Warlock via unknown deal.
Things really changed for me well into my new career in the year 1492 Dale Reckoning. I and my mentor were exploring the ruins of, what we thought, was a Drow city much closer to the surface than usual that served a god other than Lloth, Queen of Spiders. We discovered a number of artefacts with writing that was unfamiliar to either of us. In particular, a Long sword hilt with a number of unfamiliar runes, strange construction and no blade. We bagged and tagged everything then slept in preparation to make our way home the next morning.
This proved to be a mistake, as they came for us while we rested.
I didn’t know the identity of my captors until I was in a cell with other prisoners, in some kind of Underdark outpost, with my mentor nowhere in site. The Priestess who ran the outpost took great delight in informing us all that we were property of the Drow, and could look forward to being taken to their city in the not too distant future. What followed were days of humiliation, pain, and hunger as they tried to grind any spark of resistance we might have within us, out under their heel.
IIvara, the priestess mentioned previously and leader of this monstrous band, took great delight in having me beat often due to my mixed heritage, and tendency to mouth off when she brought it up as a negative. We eventually used that to escape. One of our cellmates got free of their bonds in the night, then freed a few others. I began talking loudly about Ilvara, and really all Drow’s, heritage in admittedly a disparaging way. That brought in an arrogant guard who was eager to explain to me all the ways I was wrong. The now freed Dragonborn caught the guard and proceeded to give a beautiful demonstration on just HOW wrong said guard was about the superiority of the Drow race.
With the guard disposed of and us out of the cell we began taking action. Our sneakier members managed to snag our gear, while killing some more of our captors. I was of course given the seemingly useless hilt from the archeological site, a crossbow and some crossbow bolts off the downed guard and told to stay out of the way, since I wasn’t a fighter. Well, whenever I’d been out of my cell in the previous days I’d….felt drawn to this hilt….connected to it in some strange fashion. It was my connection to it that allowed us to locate our gear and now….I could almost hear it….as if it were whispering something to me.
Our luck turned and an alarm was about to be raised. My crossbow didn’t have the range…but I knew I did. I raised my hand and a blast of Emerald light lanced from my palm and struck a fleeing guard in the back with just enough force to send him over the edge, giving the spiders below a fresh treat. I recall staring at my hand in shock….and then our Myconid, Shoor, brought my attention to my hilt…which now had a sturdy well made blade attached to it.
Well, shocking as that development was we had no real time to consider how it happened or it’s implications, which describes a lot of my time in the Underdark. From then on we were running, fighting and surviving. The blade teaching me new powers in it’s silent way, and some of my companions taking the time to build some swordsmanship skills in me. I won’t say we were all close, ours was an alliance born of necessity, but we looked out for one another, and kept each other sane even when the demons began making themselves known.
We did make it to the surface, though…not all who began with us, survived to that point.
I immediately headed back to the Sword Coast and Candle Keep, intending to figure out this strange blade, it’s powers and it’s source. I never made it.
One night I was sleeping in my tent alongside a Merchant Caravan and their guards and the next morning I awoke in unfamiliar lands. At first I thought the Caravan had just left me behind, but the lack of tracks and the fact I was on the edge of, what I now know to be, the Korcari Wilds quickly convinced me that was not in fact the case.
My confused wanderings eventually lead me to an old woman named Flemmeth, who seemed rather amused with me, but was also willing to give me some direction. She was kind enough to allow me to stay with her for a few days, get my feet under me…adjust to the fact I was NOT on Faerun but a place called Thedas and by their reckoning it was 9:39 Dragon.
Oh…and there was a war going on between Mages and Templars…..
Honestly I don’t think I really believed her until I made it to the Hinterlands and saw the differences in this world from my own, and the conflict between Mages and Templars for myself.
Obviously, looking as I did (knife-ears and all) and tossing out strange magic didn’t win me a lot of favors at first with the locals. However once it became clear I was more interested in defending myself and innocents over settling whatever score the Mages/Templars had against one another, the locals became…cautiously optimistic about me.
Now I am no hero, but I am also not inclined to stand by when a small child is about to get killed for the terrible crime of being between two sides that REALLY want to annihilate one another. That and a few similar actions were enough to get me a reputation with the locals, which drew the eye of a Mercenary company that was in the area. Obviously I could use the coin, so I became their ‘Apostate Battle Mage’.
As you can see, that degree I worked so hard for is really paying for itself.
Anyways, it seems the Divine Justinia has called for a Conclave to settle this dispute between Mages and Templars, peacefully. My merry band of mercs have been hired to provide protection and honestly I am delighted. With a little luck this fighting will end and Perhaps I can earn enough coin to begin figuring out HOW I got here and then find a way back to Faeurn.
- First Entry of Blaine Gloomstalker, 9:41 Dragon / 1496 DR
‘Okay…not good.’
He instead closed his eyes and turned inward, feeling for the sword within him, sensing that nugget of power, that conduit to so much more and found himself taken aback. Ever since he’d arrived in Thedas he’d noticed a slight change to his magic. In Faeurn once he’d expended himself he’d need to sit down and rest before he could caste anything major again, but upon arriving here…it felt like his mystic strength was returning even when he was being fairly active. He’d theorized it had something to do with the Fade, but between just surviving and dealing with so many rapid changes he hadn’t yet had a chance to really study the issue.
The mark flared again as he explored that conduit of power and was frankly shocked at what he felt. Normally, the power was strong but distant, like looking at approaching thunderstorms on a clear summers day. Now….now it felt like he was standing in the eye of a hurricain, and all he needed to do was reach out channel that power all around him.
He opened his eyes and adjusted his sitting position, getting comfortable. Noting that he was still dressed in his clothing and breastplate. As he moved he felt his special necklace pressing against his chest, meaning it was still under his Jerkin, which was good. A glance to his left showed his other sword was sheathed and tucked behind the legs of one of his guards, which wasn’t so good.
His mind was considering his options as the door opened and his captors immediately sheathed their swords. Lavender eyes regarded the two new arrivals, human women, as they approached. The cute one, auburn haired regarded him cautiously but also curiously. Her companion stalked around him like an angry Displacer Beast.
“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now?”
The Half-Drows mouth began moving well before his mind formed a reasoned response. “I am absolutely sure I could give you a number of great reasons not to kill me….but since I don’t know WHY I’m even bound I am at a bit of a disadvantage.”
The short haired woman stopped cold, glaring before grabbing the Half-Drow “You Jest….at a time like this?!” getting in his face. Her hand seizing his marked arm “With this on your hand?”
“I repeat….I don’t know what is going on!” his lavender eyes peering into her own, seeing anger but more than anything, loss. “Or what that is.” His voice softening a bit.
“You’re lying!” she was grabbed and pulled back by her companion well before her pain could push her anger into physical violence.
“Cassandra!” she began voice loud then dropping low as she leaned in, speaking into her ear “We need him.”
Cassandra glared at him, but then seemed to get a hold of her anger, as the Aubrun haired woman spoke. “There was…an explosion at the Conclave. Everyone, Mages, Templars….the Divine…is dead.”
“Except for you!” the naked bitterness in Cassandra’s words nearly sent a shiver down Blaine’s back.
Blaine nodded, finally beginning to understand his predicament, and the weight of what all those deaths meant. “I assume, the rest of ‘Haven’s Heroes’ are amongst the dead?”
Cassandra blinked, looking a little unsure as she turned to her Companion “Leliana?”
The other woman’s voice softened further “They are….you were with them?…you’re not wearing their colors?”
Blaine favored her with a sad smile “I am, if you’ll take a look at my sword over their you’ll see that the sheath and strap match the colors of the ‘Heroes’.” One of the guards snatched up the weapon in question and brought it to Leliana, who nodded to Cassandra after an examination. “If it helps, my name is Blaine Gloomstalker. I’m pretty sure Marisha would’ve listed me in the official contract, she was a stickler about that kind of thing.”
“She did, and you match the description she gave in said contract.” Leliana added, handing the weapon to Cassandra.
“Well, here’s one reason for you, Cassandra. Captain Stark was a good man. He took care of his people, honored his deals, and gave me a place on his team despite barely knowing me. He’d tell me the Jobs not done, thus we’re not done….and it won’t be done until I figure out who killed him and the people we were supposed to protect.”
Cassandra pursed her lips before nodding at one of the guards, who immediately moved to remove the chains binding the Half-Drow. “Leliana, go to the forward camp….I will take him to the rift.” She watched as the half-Drow stood, briefly arching an eyebrow as she noticed he stood an inch taller than her, and was more solidly built than she’d expect an elf to be, but had skin and eye color no human she’d ever seen could come by naturally. His stark white hair had been worked into dreads that were neatly bound together and fell to about shoulder height. She turned and headed outside, as he followed quickly, wrist still bound together via rope.
He winced as he stepped out into daylight then paused as he saw the tear in the sky, his jaw dropped open “By the Abyss!” Cassandra turned, seeing the wind catch his dark brown jacket, revealing his Breastplate over a black jerking and white shirt, along with dark pants and boots. “An explosion caused THAT?!” he turned his gaze to her and in that moment, she made a choice.
“Apparently it can.” The Mark on his hand and the breech flared, the pain driving him down to one knee. “We….think the mark on your hand can seal it…stop the things coming through it…but it’s dangerous…but if you do nothing….that mark will likely kill you….and the creatures pouring through will kill us.”
Blaine closed his eyes, working through the pain, just like he’d learned to do during the beatings back in his Underdark prison. “Then let’s get that thing closed.” He let out a breath and stood, and blinked as he saw Cassandra, knife out and his sheathed blade under her arm. She took his wrists and cut them free, before handing him his weapon.
He reached out, grasping it as she locked gazes with him. “The valley is dangerous…you will need your weapon…” she appeared about to say more but instead let go of the sheath, which he slung over his back, cinching the strap.
With a shared Look the Seeker and the Half-Drow made their way into the Valley.
****
I found myself swimming to consciousness after a dreamless sleep. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling while trying to force my fuzzy mind to clear and put the jumbled mess of my recent memories into a viable order.
Cassandra and I worked our way towards the valley together, picking up and Elf name Solas, who apparently knew enough about the Fade to keep the mark from killing me in my sleep. Then a Dwarf (without a beard) named Varric who made use of a rather impressive looking crossbow, and seemed to have a real talent for getting under Seeker Cassandra’s skin. Afterwards their was an argument with Chancellor Roderick, more fighting through the valley that involved closing more rifts and rescuing trapped soldiers, and my companions surprise at the magic I could wield. Apparently summoning a sword from thin air then charging it with arcane energy to smite a demon was somewhat unusual. Solas had calmed everyone else’s mind by likening it to ancient elven techniques used by Arcane Warriors…which I made a mental note to ask him about later, as the subject sounded rather interesting.
Also assuming there would BE a later was the kind of mindset I wanted to be in at the time.
When we finally reached the epicenter of the blast, the fade had a new surprise for us. Somehow it played an echo of what happened before…showing me coming to the aid of The Divine which was seemingly enough to clear the last lingering doubts about the myself in the eyes of Cassandra. So I decide not to question it then and there.
What followed was a desperate fight against a rather Large demon, and it’s summoned allies. Faerie Fire, and a liberal application of Eldritch blast backed up by archers, the power of Solas, bolts from Varric and Cassandra and her fellow soldiers going toe-to-toe with the thing was clearly whittling it down…but the sheer number of demons pouring through the breech was starting to turn things against us. It was getting bad enough that I was considering drawing the sword on my back…or even using my necklace.
Thankfully neither proved necessary. Drinking from my conduit I replenished myself and then used ‘Misty Step’ to get between the rather large demon and it’s summoned horde, dropped a hex on it, then summoned ‘The Arms of Hadar’. Normally that last spell causes…wet, alien, and horrifying limbs of some kind to enter the world and start smacking anything nearby around. I haven’t actually needed to caste that since I arrived in Thedas so I was caught by surprise when instead of wet tentacles I got Ribbons of golden energy that, when they first appeared, briefly looked like angelic wings, before proving to be no less wrathful than what I am used to using.
The….’Ribbons of Hadar?’ decimated the horde and put the large demon on it’s rear…which gave me enough time to close the breech, an effort that knocked me out…and when I woke up….well….once again things had changed.
- Second Entry of Blain Gloomstalker
Haven, 3 Days later
“I beg for your forgiveness and your blessing.”
Blaine stared incredulously at the elf currently debasing herself on the floor as he sat on the bed.
“They say you saved us, the breach stopped growing…just like the mark on your hand.”
“That’s good….great in fact….now please….stand up.” He shifted as various aches and pains made themselves known, scooting forward enough to plant his bare feet on the floor after whipping the bed sheet aside.
The female elf looked up, saw him and then caste her head back down. “The breech is still in the sky…” she continued “….but for now…we are safe…thanks to you!” She finally started to stand and began backing away, face a mix of awe and terror. “Lady Cassandra awaits you in the Chantry your grace.”
“Wait…you…” he began but she was already at the door.
“I should tell her you’re awake….she said to notify her when you’re awake….at once!” She was all but babbling at the point, before making a rather hasty exit.
Blaine rubbed his temples as he sat in the small but well furnished room for a moment, just listening, and considering what that young woman’s reaction. His mind drifting back to the fight with the demon and what had happened when he caste ‘Arms of Hadar’.
He held out his left hand, palm up and let power flow into it, preparing to fire an Eldritch blast. The energy formed, coallsced and was held…but it was not Verdant like it’d been every single time he’d used it before. Now…it was gold, just like the arms.
The Half-Drow let the energy fizzle away harmlessly as he sat forward, thinking. Holding out his right handed he summoned the sword. That incredulous look returning as his hands seemingly grasped a shaft of light that morphed into his weapon. It had always been well crafted but now it’s blade was polished to a mirror shine, while the hilt and cross guard looked like something a god of goods chosen Paladin would carry into hell to smite evil. As he watched runes glowed gold along the blades surface then faded away, leaving him staring at his own reflection. He dismissed the weapon and it which glowed so brightly then fell apart into motes of light.
“Oookay….talk to Cassandra, then start figuring out why…THIS….is happening.” With that he stood and began gathering his things. Clearly someone had been taken care of him and his supplies. Everything was freshly cleaned and polished to the point it looked almost brand new. For a panicked moment he clutched at his neck, and found it bare. Glancing about frantically he spotted his necklace and sighed in relief as he spotted it sitting atop the barrel that’d been converted into a bed side stand. He quickly put it on then secured it under his Jerkin and began dressing, and once done headed for the door.
He all but froze when he saw what was waiting for him outside.
A small crowd had gathered, all their eyes on him, whispering as the soldiers saluted, while he passed
“That’s him, the Herald of Andraste!”
“They say he summoned wings of light to beat back the demon horde!”
“He looks kind of like a tall elf.”
“And? Elf’s are children of the Maker too!”
“So he closed the Breech? Well that’s more than anyone else has done.”
“My sisters a soldier, was with him at the Temple, said he summoned a sword blessed by Andraste herself!”
“I heard he’s descended from a Holy Warrior elf bloodline, ones that served the Maker before the fall!”
Blaine tried to pick up his pace a bit without looking like he was trying to pick up the pace.
“The Chantry has declared us all heretics!”
“That just shows they’ve lost their way!”
“Clearly the Maker sent us an Elf to shame us for allowing them to be treated so badly.”
“I hear he’s a Half-Elf, proof that we’re all ONE under the maker.”
The door to the Chantry closed behind him, cutting off the whispered murmurs of the crowd. “I miss just being an Archeologist.” He muttered under his breath “It was nice, exploring forgotten tombs, avoiding deadly traps, painstaking research, all in the Nobel pursuit of knowledge and lost history….” He shook his head as he passed by the stone pillars of the Chantry, heading for the far door.
Which burst open As a very annoyed Chancellor Roderick marched out under a full head of steam. Blaine stepped aside. “Chancellor.” He greeted in an attempt to be pleasant and received only a withering glare in replay as the man stormed past The Half-Drow, who could only raise an eyebrow at the retreating back.
Turning back, Blaine headed for the door the Chancellor just burst through. Pushing into the room he found Cassandra with her back to him, running fingers through her hair, while Leliana paced, arms folded across her chest. “I take it Roderick is still determined to see me in chains?”
Cassandra scoffed “That short sighted bureaucrat wants to wait for the election of a new divine before we do anything.” She turned, looking at him “We simply can not let this…chaos go on for so long.”
Blaine inclined his head before moving to sit on the edge of the table. “I don’t disagree. I mean we still don’t understand HOW the breech was opened in the first place, or who’s responsible.”
“Exactly.” Leliana piped up as she turned to face them both “The Divine gave us a writ” she uncrossed her arms and tapped a thick tome that sat atop the table. “It grants us the authority to act, to close the breach, find the ones responsible and restore order.” She took a deep breath Blaine folded his arms across his chest. “And now we must do that with no leader, no numbers and no Chantry support”
“So you need to build allies.” The Warlock reached for the writ, taking a moment to scan what it said.
“Correction….WE need allies.” Cassandra said, pointing at Blaine, who looked up from the book, surprise evident on his face. “You said your jobs not done until you find the ones who killed your people and the ones you were hired to protect.”
Lavender eyes stared into her own for a long moment. “I did say that, and I did mean it…I’m just not sure what help I can be to you beyond closing rifts and killing a demons. I mean you said it.” His gaze flicking to the Spymaster “You need a lot more than I can provide.”
“You sell yourself short. As the Herald of Andraste, your name already draws attention, and your actions draw support.” Cassandra replied, ignoring the deepening frown on his face as he closed the writ with a snap as he turned to look at her. “This gives us a solid foundation upon which to build…if you will help us.” Holding out her hand to him
Blaine set the writ down and stood, looking at them both, before nodding. “I’ll do my best to aid you.” Taking the offered hand. “But I can’t promise to be much good at politics.”
“We have people in mind, just you wait and see.”
Notes:
Been having a lot of trouble with this one, but the core idea of bringing a DnD Archeologist over to Thedas appeals to me...especially when said Archeologist is a Warlock via unknown deal.