fadewalk | Demon Hunt: Grey Warden Party (Anders, Sigrun & Alistair)

Neria left the dungeons and strode to the courtyard, green eyes carefully scrutinizing the battlements; there was some good time since she had to hunt down a demon. Actually, the first (and last) time she had done it was during her mission to set Kinloch Hold free from Uldred and the Sloth Demon. In that occasion, she was also in the Fade, hunting a demon, but not in flesh like now. And the consequences of losing herself to the Envy Demon seemed far more dire as well.

Fortunately, like before, she had people she trusted by her side (and, with a bit of luck, she wouldn't even have to save them from their own minds). Now, it was just a matter of time until they find the demon.

She paced, turning and spinning her staff in her hands without really noticing her gestures, waiting for them to gather. Demons weren't really the Grey Warden speciality, but with two mages, a former templar and a legionnaire of the dead, Neria was confident.

(ooc: hey guys! neria/anders/sigrun/alistair for the rp order)

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All of Neria's Commander composure and demeanor seemed to disappear when Sigrun made the comment about Alistair, giving place to a blushing small framed elf with no social skills and, apparently, as awkward as a teenager. Eyes wide and mouth agape, all she could do for the whole awkward silence was to open and close her mouth as a fish out of the water.

It took her some time to finally manage to say something.

"Go? No! Nononononono--" she hid her face in her hands, clearly embarassed "I-I mean... I was really shocked when I first saw you but I'm already over it. I didn't mention anything 'cause I thought it wasn't really necessary, I didn't want to make things hard for you-- Creators!"

She glared at Sigrun, than glanced at Alistair, taking a deep breath.

"What I'm trying to say is... yes, you're clearly pretty much the same as my husband, but you're not him, despite your looks, voice or demeanor. And I avoided the topic because even we're from different realities, it's natural our minds slip and makes us compare things we shouldn't be comparing and... I know things haven't turned out for you as you wished, in your reality so... I didn't want to make you uncomfortable." Neria let out a sigh, recovering a bit of her commander's composure "I want you to stay because I know I can trust you, and trust is really something we're in shortage. But, by all means, if you're not comfortable with it, you're free to go. I apologize for my silly pressumptions."

And Creators, please, strike me or open a hole under my feet...

Edited Date: 2015-08-14 06:23 am (UTC)

Anders was rather the odd man out of this equation, and he felt it keenly. It had been years since he'd spent any time with Neria or any of the Fereldan Wardens, Sigrun and Alistair included. Still, the look on this Alistair's face - it was more than mortification or surprise, and the sheer unhappiness of it was not only bizarre on Alistair's normally good-natured features, but eerily familiar.

He swallowed and looked away. He did not need to be thinking about that, not here, not now.

SHE WILL HAVE FENRIS, Justice had told him, when they'd begun to plan for what they'd done, and it was true, it was everything their plan had been built upon. Hawke's rough hands in Fenris's silver hair, the two of them touching desperately, fervently, hungrily, after three years of forced separation, and Anders in the doorway unnoticed, slipping away, back into the clinic, back to his work. Because who needed him, really, beyond the mages. Hawke would be all right.

He inhaled sharply and attempted to actually listen to the conversation going on around him. What a fool he'd been, anyways.

Sigrun flushed bright red under her tattoos and clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Oh, I wasn't supposed to say anything about that. You didn't know about that. Oops."

She melted under Neria's glare and decided her best bet was to hide behind Anders. Yep. He was unfortunately rather skinnier than she remembered, so that was rather easier thought than done.

She poked her head around from behind Anders and mouthed 'I'M SORRY' at both of them.

Alistair managed to flush in embarrassment at Neria's embarrassment and then there was Sigrun's and Maker, this was complicated. He waved his hands vaguely and shook his head. "No, no. No no no it's fine. I'm just sorry that..." He sighed, scratching at his wrist, then frowning at the flaking blood that had dried there and he'd failed to clean up.

"Well, we best get on with this. Hacking, chopping, stabbing, um, bear-ing?" He rocked on his heels, looking both pained and hopeful that they could just move on to the fighting. Fighting was easy. Drinking, fighting, sleeping. Not usually in that order, but occasionally.

"Yes, fighting will be wonderful."

She managed to smile before turning to stared the eastern side of the battlements. "Cullen handled us the eastern side of Skyhold. Since none of us know this place for sure, I'd rather focus on tracking the demon by its scent. No, sorry to disappoint but no 'bearing' for know. A 'foxing' seems more appropriated for the task."

Then, she glanced at Sigrun "We have done it before in the Western Approach, I'm counting on you young lady. You follow me, Anders and Justice will keep his senses wary of any demonic presence. Alistair, you close our formation, don't let anything approach us through our backs, yes?"

And with that said, Neria concentrated and a bright orange light enveloped her frame, changing into a orange fox. She moved her ears, scanning for any suspicious sounds while sniffing the courtyard. Finally she stopped, ears standing alert and she howled, running to the battlements.

Anders hefted his staff in his hands and stepped forward when Neria mentioned them.

"Ooh, he does like it when you acknowledge his unique skills, Neria. Makes us feel all warm and fuzzy inside." Anders offered a small grin and spun his staff in his right hand once as Neria shifted.

"Aand...there she goes. That never gets old. I seriously wish that was a branch of magic I'd ever learned. Of course, then Hawke would demand I learn how to turn into a dragon, and I could see that getting us into trouble... or more trouble than usual, anyways." He kept up a steady stream of intentionally distracting chatter as he followed Neria in her sniffing of the courtyard.

Sigrun appeared to rally somewhat at the orders.

"Right you are, Commander!" she said, drawing the two daggers sheathed on her hips and moving after Neria and Anders.

She spared one glance at Alistair, blushed again, and turned her eyes front. When Neria let out a howl, Sigrun whooped, all dangerous grins and sharp blades, and sprinted after her.

Alistair nodded sharply, unslinging his shield and drawing his sword, giving it a slight swing, limbering his shoulder. "When we, er I, well it attacked me it was pretty hacked up. But it was still strong." He glanced over his shoulder, then back to where he followed behind Neria and the others. "And icky. Verrry icky."

Neria ran through the battlements, dark paws barely touching the ground; going down the stairs and passing the gardens, she followed a trail of demon goo and blood, heading to the great hall and near the Inquisitor's throne.

The trail went pass the Library door and the elf-turned-into-fox scratched the wood, whining for someone to open it for her.

"It is a demon," Anders said in a voice deeper than it should have been. "An aberration of the Maker's design, a creature driven to lust for what it cannot have and should not want. 'Icky' is an insufficient term."

Anders wrinkled his nose after ending that diatribe and looked over his shoulder at Alistair apologetically.

"Sorry, resident Spirit and all, gets a bit worked up about demons. You'd think he was a Chantry mother by the way he goes on."

Anders grimaced and added in a lower tone, "No, I did not mean that literally. Yes, I know you're not associated with the evils of the Chantry. Lighten up, Justice. Maker."

"Tell me about it!" Sigrun called back at Alistair's comment, still jogging in the lead. "I put like five fucking daggers in a beautiful cluster in that damn thing's chest and it barely blinked!"

At Neria's whining and scritching, Sigrun sped up a little.

"Hang on, Commander, I got ya," she said, stopping and reaching over the fox to open the door.

Alistair snorted softly at Anders' apology. "Oh yes, spirits, so nosy. And bossy. Everyone knows that."

When Sigrun moved to open the door he focused his attention to the door, sword and shield moving up to guard position. After everything, to be here surrounded by other Wardens, following orders-- very weird.

When Sigrun opened the door Neria immediately climbed the stairs, fur over her spine ruffling. There was more demon blood along the way, this time enough for everyone else to smell it too.

The trail led them to the rookery.

The Envy Demon was quiet in a corner, curled around itself, apparently healing. A low snarl escaped Neria's throat and she gazed the others, as if trying to communicate some kind of plan; the rookery was too small, too narrow to fight properly. She sprinted, barking and jumping over the Envy Demon, which only screeched at the surprise, stumbling and falling to the rotunda.

She turned into a bird in mid-air, avoiding the crush against the ground, unlike the demon. Neria chirped, railing everyone to meet her in the rotunda.

Anders followed Neria up the stairs warily and quietly. He braced himself for combat when he saw the demon, stance widening to accommodate the wide casting style he favored.

"Dammit, Neria," he swore under his breath when the fox flat out charged the sleeping demon, and when the two of them went keeling over the rail (one rather less painfully than the other), he rushed to peer over it himself.

"Well. Guess we're going back down, then," he muttered. He sprinted for the steps again.

Sigrun vanished at the first sight of the demon, and was lost from sight for some time while Anders and Alistair made their way down to the rotunda floor.

The creature stumbled to its feet after its fall and roared at Neria in bird form, which gave Sigrun ample opportunity to sneak back down the steps and behind it. She kept low, and aimed a sweep of her daggers across what would have been the hamstrings in a normal sort of human or dwarf or elfy creature, then spun and managed to dash away back towards where Neria was flitting about before the demon's thrashing response could hit her.

"How do you like that!" she yelled at it antagonizingly when it let out a screech of pain.

Alistair sprinted back down the stairs two at a time, his long legs absorbing the shock as he hit the floor at the bottom of the rotunda. No one else was going to be hurt by this thing he'd decided. He lowered his shoulder and charged into the demon as Sigrun danced away, his shield catching it in the head and stunning it for a moment.

He was angry in a way he hadn't been in a long time, lips peeled back from his teeth as he grunted in effort at the glancing blow that scored against his shield in return. It is obvious that despite the rough living he's been doing Alistair is hale and fit, and there's a gritty efficiency to his movements, a spareness to his style that he has developed since leaving the Wardens.

Neria used Alistair and Sigrun's attacks as a cover to turn back into her elven form; with the almost former templar there to do the heavy lifting she didn't see the need to use her bear form.

Moving around the rotunda, she stood behind the demon, casting barriers for everyone. Then, a good old fire magic at the demon's back, keeping his focus at bay and creating openings for Sigrun to exploit.

To say Anders found himself in his usual position at the party warrior's back would be...perhaps not the right phrase. He gravitated behind Alistair automatically, the motion instinct after so many years kept safe by Hawke's axe or Fenris's greatsword while he cast.

This battle, he went straight into offensive spells rather than healing ones, slipping out from behind Alistair's cover to toss fireballs straight at the demon's face, and then moving back. The combined fire at the demon's front and back seemed to keep it pretty well occupied, if not as damaged as Anders would like, and eventually he sprinted far enough away from Alistair to keep the other man out of the range of his spells and lifted his staff to shoot lightning at the demon.

Sigrun was a blur when she she figured out what Neria was doing, darting in close to sink her blades into whatever demon parts she could get at, and then dashing away only to dart back in again. It was difficult to track her movements in the flurry of the battle, but she seemed to be able to avoid the fireballs well enough. Long practice with the likes of Velanna and Neria, after all.

She let Alistair charge the front of it and focused her attacks mainly on the sides and back of the demon. It was only because she was backstabbing the demon's legs with a twin fangs attack that she even saw Anders move to switch to lightning instead of fire. She yanked her blades out again with a spew of gore and rolled away as quickly as she could, only narrowly avoiding getting caught in the cast and electrocuted.

"Warn a girl next time, Anders!" she hollered at him, grinning ferociously.

It was smooth, easy, even though Alistair had never fought with this group before, he felt like he knew them. Perhaps because they had fought with their version of him? He wasn't sure he was ever going to get over that there was a man with his face married to the slight elf mage lobbing fire from across the room, or friends with the others.

He caught a bad slash on the edge of his shield, turning him half away, but he swung back with his blade and let loose a holy smite that caused the demon to reel for a moment. It was starting to grow larger, how was it growing larger? Now taller than him, one of its overhand swings caught the side of his head with a serrated claw, splitting his scalp and sending blood running down his neck and into his eye.

"What did I say about playing nice, kids?"

The elven mage casted a simple regenerating spell to keep Alistair in one piece, even with the demon barely being able to touch him. But she found the battle odd; the demon have had enough time to recollect itself after the first wave of surprise attacks and things seemed... too easy.

When that thought crossed her mind, the demon landed a hit on Alistair's head; she screamed as a reflex, as she had done before fighting side by side with her husband, motioning to get a better angle to heal him when the oversized demon's hand caught her by the neck, claws tearing the sensitive skin while raising her to face it laughing viciously.

So, Commander, I wonder how awfully delightful must be having Amaranthine and Ferelden at your feet. It spoke, a bizarre smile on its distorted face. Or being you, Anders, with the soft skin of Jicosa just at hands reach. Nothing like being the Inquisitor, no, but it's a start.

Neria grunted in pain.
"You'll never make it out of here!"

Careful, Commander. Don't want your friends to hit you by mistake... though I very much would like to discover how would you feel dying by the hands of a man that wears your beloved's face.

When Neria screamed, Anders reached for a healing spell by reflex, his gaze darting between the members of the group till he saw the blood running down Alistair's face. He threw the healing at Alistair sloppily and refocused almost immediately on Neria in the demon's grasp.

He planted the base of his staff on the floor before him and cast a mind blast, trying to blow the demon backwards and offset it enough to get Neria free. The demon slid back, but only a step, and that seemed to serve little purpose beyond getting the demon to refocus it's attention on Anders.

"Don't - you - talk - about - her," he snarled when that - that thing mentioned Jicosa's name, advancing and throwing a flurry of spirit bolts and fireballs at it. The demon only laughed, and seemed to take strength from his rage.

No? Should I talk about Fenris, then? All that lyrium in such lovely skin. That's what you want from him, isn't it, Anders? Or should I say Justice? The song of his lyrium. Anders growled, and the demon spun the arm still holding Neria away and advanced toward Anders.

To be you, Anders! The Anders. They hate you already, the angry abomination who started a war. Think of what I could do as you! The chaos, the bloodshed! They would rally behind you and rally against you and destroy everything in between. And it would be glorious.

Anders let out a roar of frustration and wrath and his skin split from the inside as his eyes turned blue. He seemed to grow taller, even, as Justice straightened inside his skin and radiated power from his every pore.

"SILENCE, DEMON!" the spirit boomed, striding Anders' body forward and blasting a walking bomb spell at the demon. It shrieked and clawed at itself.

Sigrun used the distraction to get in close and slice at the demon's weird leg things, not that that seemed to affect it much either. She pulled back and circled warily, looking for a better opening.

"Hey you!" she yelled, hoping to get its attention. "Why are you always trying to get inside my friend's heads, huh? The dwarf not good enough for you?!" She slipped one of her throwing knives from a forearm sheath and threw it right at the thing's stomach area when it swung Neria around wildly.

"Of course not! Nobody gives a shit about the dusters. Well, that just makes you super predictable, buddy!" Sigrun gave a brief yell and ran straight at it, albeit from an angle.

Which was probably not the best plan, she realized retrospectively as it batted her away like a toy and she went flying into a wall and some wood scaffolding. She moaned and lay still.

The healing magic that sealed the cut in Alistair's scalp made him shiver, but the demon's words were worse. As Sigrun went tumbling away and the demon flailed and shrieked under Justice's spell, he ducked forward and brought his sword down in a huge heaving arc across the wrist above the hand that held Neria.

The limb severed, he caught her before she could tumble to the floor, and then spun so that she was at his back. "See to Sigrun!" he shouted, ducking under his shield as the explodey part of Anders spell activated and a fresh spray of blood spattered toward him.

Neria slipped on the floor her way to Sigrun, using the momentum created by Alistair's movement. The healing spell was halfway casted by the time her hands touched the dwarf, white light emanating from her hands.

"Oh Sigrun, my dear Sigrun... hold on, please." then she turned to Anders "I need you to raise a shield in which one of you but me." she stood up, fury clear on her eyes "This place is about to blow."

Yes, dear Commander. I can feel it... control slipping through your fingers like sand. You always wanted power, always wanted to give in, to not just smile and beckon. Now is your chance to let your fury join me!

"Join a low creature like you? Don't make me laugh." Neria spat, the temperature in the room raised and heat mirages start to form and tremble around her "But my rage surely allows me to excel at being a Fire Mage." her voice was controlled and low, dripping of hate and threat and that was a face the Commander didn't show often; giving in to her feelings, a dangerous flirting with the most unstable side of her magic.

Her blood was igniting and she could feel the rage only one step from taking over her. She dropped her staff and concentrated fire on her hands directly, all mana entering a unnatural form of stasis before she released the blast as an raw, violent explosion of fire, engulfing the demon entirely.