Chapter Text
Chapter 4- The Job
It didn’t take long for Mara to realize that traveling with her wisp was going to be far more dangerous than she’d originally anticipated. Even when it seemed the lack of closeness to the veil proved not to be an issue, she was dismayed to find that Venatori were everywhere she went. Having never left Nevarra City, she’d not known how prevalent nor how audacious the cultists had become. Rumors of blood rituals and increased demon sightings passed in hushed whispers amongst the people of every town and market.
Mara was grateful she’d brought her book of wards. She had a feeling she’d need to brush up on the higher level ones if they were going to make it very far. At her request, her wisp had agreed to hide whenever they were in a city or town, choosing to stay near her dagger, both hoping its magical energy would mask its presence and the cloak would hide the glow. Historically, cultists got weird ideas about creatures from the Fade. She didn’t want to risk anything happening to her friend.
She stopped at a tavern, a week’s journey away from Nevarra City, heading toward Tevinter. She froze as she realized it was full of Venatori soldiers, drinking and laughing. Pulling her cloak closer and keeping her hood up, she mumbled an order to the bartender and sat near an exit, keeping as inconspicuous as possible. Two dwarves were chatting at the bar; the red-head looking around as cautiously as Mara felt, the other older gentleman seeming at ease though his hand stayed close to his giant crossbow.
Careful. Those two. Looking for trouble.
Mara tensed, but forced herself to ease into a polite smile when her food arrived. She grabbed the mug and downed a gulp right as a fight broke out. She wasn’t sure what started it but the Venatori seemed particularly interested in the dwarves as they brandished their curved blades, yelling threats and taunts. The older gentleman cocked and fired his crossbow, taking out the closest one. The sound of it reverberated throughout the small room. It was like no other crossbow Mara had ever seen, its sheer size and weight seemingly too much for the old man. The redhead turned and shot a cultist to her left with her short bow.
“You’re not looking good old friend,” she said, stealing a glance at him as she let her arrow fly, concerned teasing in her voice.
The man turned and leaned on the bar for support, grabbed his drink and as he turned back to retort, the redhead stole it out of his hands.
“This will take more than you and me,” she grunted, back handing another soldier in the face with it.
Hmmm. Good trouble. Her wisp hummed in approval.
Mara didn’t agree as she eyed her surroundings. So far none of them had so much as glanced her way, maybe it wasn’t too late to sneak out.
The older gentleman was still trying to catch his breath as he asked “Ok, what are you thinking?”
The redhead shot another one, but Mara didn’t get to hear her reply.
One of the soldiers had tried sneaking up behind the older man and Mara wasn’t going to let that happen. She entered the fray as she stood up and disarmed him. Two others ran at her, and she bashed their heads together, stealing one of their blades and using it to punch the next one in the face. She felt herself get grabbed from behind and kicked against the bench to give herself momentum, pushing her attacker into the bar behind them then threw her elbow back into their face, dropping them to the ground. The rest of the Venatori charged at her all at once.
Mara! Above you! Her wisp trilled, urgently.
She stole a peripheral glance at the ceiling, saw the chandelier, then turned and threw the blade at the rope suspending it. She ducked and protected her head as it crashed down on the cultists swarming her, knocking them to the ground. Both dwarves stared at her as she stood back up and looked around. The older one had a glint in his eye and the redhead looked rather satisfied.
“Get out of my bar. All of you!” The bartender barked, looking around disgustedly at the mess.
Mara made a quick exit, stuffing the food into her pockets before she left, hoping her wisp was keeping up. She felt a tendril grasp at her small finger in reassurance.
The two dwarves chased after her. “Hey wait!”
Mara didn’t stop until she’d made it several streets away. Footsteps behind her told her they were persistant. She paused and faced them, nervously, shifting from foot to foot, her eyes glancing around for danger. “What do you want?”
The older gentleman leaned over and tried to catch his breath. The red head shook her head at him, a knowing look on her face as she reached for him. He waved her away as he looked at Mara. “You really handled yourself back there, kid. What’s your story?”
Mara shrugged, pulling her cloak closer. His appraisal made her uncomfortable. It was like he could see right through her. “Just a Watcher, trying to find her way in the world. What’s yours?”
“A Watcher, you say?” He rubbed his beard and smiled at his companion, who shrugged. He walked toward Mara, hand extended. “I’m Varric Tethras, and this is Lace Harding. We’re on a bit of a mission to stop an elven god from destroying the world.”
“An elven god.” She repeated, doubtfully. Here? In the physical world? Not likely.
“There’s going to be lots of demons and undead to deal with, which if I recall correctly should be right in the Mourn Watch's wheelhouse. Interested? ” He asked nonchalantly, like this was casual conversation.
His kind eyes and easy demeanor belied his sharp wit and obvious cunning, and she ignored his offered hand as she crossed her arms and eyed him with distrust.
Varric held up his hands in surrender as he chuckled, “Look I know what you’re thinking: why should I risk my neck for the crazy schemes of a total stranger? I get it. If I hadn’t been there, I’d have thought we were nuts too. But here’s the thing. You’ve got the talent of someone who’s destined for something big. And I know talent. We need someone who can think on their feet, analyze a situation and make a decision in the moment, adaptable. Someone he won’t see coming. That’s you.”
He leaned in and looked Mara deep in her eyes. She could tell there was more to the story. His non-chalance felt protective, like the history was heavy and he needed to keep things light so as not to be crushed beneath the burden. “So what do you say, kid? You in?”
Despite her curiosity and interest, Mara hesitated. “I...don’t know you. Why should I trust you?”
Harding put her hand on Varric’s shoulder before stepping in. “If it helps, we could hire you officially in a Mourn Watcher capacity. I know they don’t usually take jobs outside the Grand Necropolis, but would you consider it worth taking on?”
Varric huffed, “Harding, that ruins the story! Where’s the adventure or the plot twist in just hiring a mercenary to do a job?”
“Didn’t stop you from hiring Hawke back in Kirkwall, now did it?” Harding shot back.
Varric snorted and backed off, “Ok, You got me.”
Mara put her hands on her hips and pondered this strange opportunity while Varric and Harding continued their friendly bickering. On one hand, if what Varric said was even half true, this was a big job that she wasn’t even sure of the details on. What exactly did it entail? Fighting demons and tempering spirits and settling undead she could handle, it was part of her job description. Facing down an elven god bent on world destruction? That was a little out of her depth. On the other hand, she really had nothing else waiting for her. She had no idea how long her forced break from the Necropolis was going to be and she needed a consistent job. Something to keep her going, if not financially, then to keep her from sheer boredom. And traveling in a group would probably be safer, now that it was clear things on the outside were not going well.
Beneath her cloak she felt Wisp give her a little nudge. She blew out a breath. “Mara.”
Varric and Harding went silent and looked at her, confused.
Mara offered her hand. “My name. It’s Mara. I’m in.”
Varric laughed and clapped Harding on the back, “See? What did I tell you? Eye for talent.”
He reached forward to shake Mara’s hand, but she held it away and added “As long as you’re okay with my friend coming along too.” She moved her cloak away, revealing the wisp. It unwrapped its tendrils from her mage blade and hovered over her now cupped hand.
Harding’s eyes widened, but Varric grinned. “You really are full of surprises, kid. We’re off to a great start.”