Mountains of Faith (Warhammer Fantasy/Dragon Age Crossover)

[SharkGlue]

AN: Okay guys, hope you like this next bit. Thanks again to my friend @RedrumSprinkles for helping me out in this. Enjoy and leave comments and thoughts below plese.

EDIT: Whoops. Wrong part

The party they arrived to was something Kat found boorish. Something you'd expect one of those Stirlanders to perhaps throw when they're not being attacked by the Vampires. Not anything a Reiklander, let alone a resident of Altdorf would normally come near.

"Excuse me," Eve said as Kat turned around to meet her, Cassandra and three strangers. A blonde man in plate, a redheaded woman in a hood, and last a woman who would have turned heads back home in Altdorf. At last, someone who looks vaguely cosmopolitan!

"Greetings," Kat smiled as she stood up from her seat by the fire.

"These three are the rest of the Inquisition leadership." Eve began. "This is Cullen, our military commander, Lelianna, our spymaster and finally Josephine, our ambassador."

"A pleasure to meet you all," Kat smiled as she bowed. Not that they could make out anything going on under her mask but it helped her.

"We've heard a lot about you and your brother,' Lelianna began. "Including both of your… unusual magic."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken." Kat nodded. "I perform magic, specifically of the Lore of Metal. Reinhardt asks for Sigmar's blessings. If he is worthy, or needed, then Sigmar sends it."

"Told you," Eve muttered as she turned to Lelianna.

"Either way," Josephine smiled. "It's good to have you two helping us. You two have a wealth of experience to share. If there's anything we can do to make you more comfortable-"

"A lab, and some materials." Kat began, quickly remembering a list of basics. "I'd like to do some experiments on the nature of… magic here. Maybe the help of Solas as well." Perhaps some proper beer, food, and a good tailor. I feel like a peasant in these borrowed robes, she added mentally. A bit too soon to complain, mayhaps tomorrow.

"We'll see what we can do," Cullen nodded.

"Have you met my brother yet?" Kat asked.

"We were about to go find him. Some of the Templars from Therinfal seemed to enjoy the tales of Sigmar. They're just outside by the training yard." Cullen smiled. "Personally, I'd just like to see what kind of training he does. As a former Templar, I'm curious to see if he lives up to the title."

"He won't disappoint you there," Kat nodded. "I for one, have some questions about magic. I was hoping you know where Solas is? I'm certain he can answer my questions."

"By the apothecary near the base of the cliff. It's pretty empty now that everyone's celebrating." Eve said.

"We'll talk later, after all this," Lelianna nodded. "We'd like to know… well everything we can about the Empire. For now, we just want to bid you and your brother thanks for helping."

"Till next time then," Kat said before downing her ale. A few minutes later, she found Solas, leaning on his staff as he watched the rest of the celebrations.

"Magister," he nodded. "I thought you would come here."

"Oh? How so?"

"I think you seek knowledge on magic," he nodded. "As a Magister, i imagine you have a thirst for knowledge no?"

"I earned my title for honors both on the battlefield and in my studies," Kat replied. "Though yes. I do seek what you say."

"You should reconsider saying your title then," Solas nodded. "Here in the south, Magister means you're from Tevinter, A nation where mages rules over all. This has… negative connotations as I'm sure you can imagine."

"The politics of the colleges on a nationwide scale?" Kat mused, thinking of some of the battles that were waged to achieve renown.It was said Gelt himself had to fend off more than one mercenary company before he became Grand Patriarch. Then again, could it not be said the same for the title of Emperor? "Intrigue is intrigue with or without magic I think."

"I see…" he nodded. "I must ask though. Why me? Why ask an elf on magic?"

"Elves wield magic in a way no human could," Kat nodded. "They can wield all of the winds without fear of corruption or death. I have had the pleasure of seeing High Loremaster Teclis himself, the very man who taught humans to wield magic safely, in action against a marauding band of Norscans and their warleader. With but a single word, they were naught but dust on the wind."

"That would indeed be… impressive." Solas answered. "I would have loved to meet an elf of your world."

"I think they'd all ask why you're all shorter." Kat replied. "Or why you let the idiots rule over you. By idiots we mean the humans." she said, just imagining how those pompous bastards who visit every now and then would act. "I mean… don't get me wrong, they of all people deserve their pride, but…"

"There is pride, and then there is arrogance," Solas answered. "I know your meaning."

"Still, I'm afraid we've strayed from my original questions." Kat said. "I must ask… how do you wield the winds here?"

"Magic?"

'Indeed the Winds of the magic," Kat nodded. "It feels so… different here. Purer and of a different sort. As if… as if I need not fear the taint of chaos."

"Chaos?" Solas asked.

"Horrifically dark magic. It twists you, and those around you by its very presence." she shivered.

"I feel like we're talking about completely different magic here," Solas said. "I know of… very little that achieves what you describe. And if you did practice it… I imagine we would not have this conversation no?"

"Indeed. So I must then ask how you perform magic."

"It is simple in practice. I draw upon the Fade, reach beyond the Veil and harness its ability to change the world as I will it. Most any mage will tell you the same basic principles, it only matters in the particulars."

"Fade? Veil?"

"Ah. I forgot. Terminology may differ." he sighed. "The Fade is the realm of spirits and magic. Where men go to dream, and the world changes as one walks. Spirits and demons can change the world as they will there."

"The realm of Morr? You draw upon that to change the world around you?"

"Your god of the dead? I do not know if it is his realm. But indeed, we draw upon it, as few can. Not everyone has a connection to the Fade. Much as i imagine not everyone in your world can. Anyway the point is moot. The Veil is the barrier between this world and the Fade."

"Hmm…" Kat paused. This raised more questions than answers.

"So all, human or elf, can draw upon The Fade… and harness all parts of it?"

"I'm not sure what you mean." Solas asked.

"Well The Winds of Magic… humans can only harness one of the Winds. At least without fear of corruption, and even then, they must be cautious. I harness the lore of Metals, Chamon." she said as she grabbed her knife and with a few words, transmuted the good steel to worthless lead.

"Fascinating," Solas said as he grabbed the knife. "Never have I seen something like that. You… you harnessed the ambient magic itself… however little there is of it."

"Little? The winds blow as they blow," Kat shrugged. "We cannot truly control them, only harness them as a sailor might. Only the Elves of Ulthuan could perhaps, and even then, through innate mastery of the art, at least as I understand it."

"Yet all races, even the qunari tap into the Fade for magic." Solas nodded. "Beyond that, the fine details come upon the mage in question. I've seen mages harness ice and fire instinctually, along with other more esoteric rituals."

"Even humans?" Kat asked gobsmacked."They… they can harness all magic? "

"Indeed! Magic is a tool like any other. Like a builder who wields a hammer. If he is not careful, he may break his hand, but properly harnessed, he will create castles."

"And demons? Possession? Tearing open great rifts like the Breach?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"The Chantry teaches them to fear demons. I've learned in my travels through the Fade that it is much like walking through a forest. Learn the nature of where you are, and you will do fine."

"This… this is all so different." Kat whispered. "Are you certain about demons? There are countless tales of what armies of them have done to the realms of men. Entire cities are still damned to this day, in the wake of the last great Chaos invasion."

"Demons are spirits who have been twisted. Nothing more." he nodded simply. "Possession is what happens when you forget your place… or dig deep greedily."

"Yet more ways your world is so much different from home," Kat sighed. "Thank you Solas. Once again, your kind help illuminate things for us."

"It is no problem at all, Katherine." he nodded. "I, for one, have many questions about your world's elves and dwarves. If you'd be kind enough to answer some of them."

"Of course!" Kat smiled, reminded of her younger days in the College. How much learning there was, and how discourse helped advance-

Bells rung as cries of panic rippled throughout the village. Immediately Kat grabbed her staff and ran for the gates as Solas followed suit.

She arrived to find Reinhardt panting, along with Eve and the rest of the Inquisition leadership clustered around the still open gates as the last of the villagers and soldiers made their way inside.

"Brother!" she shouted as she got close. "What's going on?"

"An army marches on us, under no banner."

"No banner?' Josephine cried in shock. "Who would do that?"

As if in answer, the tell tale whoosh of fireballs slung, and the crackle of ozone hung echoed outside the gate.

"If someone could please open the gates." someone cried outside, panting.

A nod from Cullen, and the other warriors readied themselves. As the guard opened the gate. A mage stumbled in, panting.

"Fashionably late I'm afraid," the man said as he collapsed straight onto Kat. Surprised, she dropped her staff as she instinctively went to grab him and gently lay him on the floor. "My name is Dorian Pavus. I bring dire news from Redcliffe. An army of rebel mages are marching here under the command of the Venatori. In service to something called the Elder One."

"Elder one?" Eve asked.

"That," he pointed towards a hill in the distance as a monstrously mutated man came up alongside a woman. Tall, emaciated, with red crystals growing out of his ribcage and claws for hands. He was obviously in service to Chaos…. Or something like it, in any manner.

"The woman's his lieutenant, Calpernia." Dorian went on. "She commands the Venatori."

"Cullen. Please tell me you have a plan." Eve said as she turned towards the commander.

"We're outnumbered, and Haven is no fortress. We cannot allow them to control the battle. We need to take control of the battle with the Trebuchets. Then maybe we can survive this."

"A good a plan as any," Eve said as at a nod Kat and the others followed her into the heart of battle.

 

[SharkGlue]

AN: Thanks once more to @RedrumSprinkles for her help in fixing this up. Hope you guys enjoy, and leave your thoughts!

Today, Sigmar's foes were human. Mages perhaps, but none who used the fell magics of the great enemy. Not yet at least. They threw fire and lightning, heedless of the cautious but true methods of the Colleges of Altdorf, and were eventually doomed to destruction.

Reinhardt let Cassandra and Blackwall take the brunt of the spellfire, deferring to their training and experience in the matter. He concentrated on the mundane traitor. Numerous and well equipped, these Venatori could have been troublesome if they came at them in formation. As it was however,sheer numbers were more than sufficient.

"The foul Orcs came at them, their numbers legion!" Reinhardt roared as he caved in a soldier's skull. "They stood taller and more bestial than any man, and wielded twice the strength of champions!" He continued as he fought on.

"All of them fell before Ghal Maraz, wielded by Sigmar! In single combat did he slay Urgluk Bloodfang, and with it, did he steal victory at Black Fire pass!" he roared as he smashed in a cultist's skull.

Though outnumbered, the terrain still favored the Inquisition. These Venatori didn't bother with trying to take down the palisades, even with their magical superiority. They just threw themselves against the smaller Inquisition force again and again.

Honestly, if they were green and bigger, Reinhardt would've thought he was dealing with an orc waagh. The fact that they eschewed tactics and strategy told him that they were confident enough in their numbers to destroy them.

He prayed to Myrmidia that this strategy of theirs would work. A cunning plan where they turned the very terrain against these mad men. Then the odds would be even.

He pushed onwards, guarding the engineers as they prepared their shot. They had just the one, as it would be impossible to load another amidst the scrum.

Reinhardt ducked and weaved, swinging with a strength bolstered by faith in his god. Skulls were smashed, armor rent, and blood was spilt as he fought the fight of the Empire, standing tall and defiant against the legions of enemies that befell them.

"Maker guide us, fire!" he heard, over the din of battle. A with a loud cry, the trebuchet threw its load, streaking through the sky.

Reinhardt risked a glance, and he watched the missile streak onwards to a mountain side, its tail like… the twin tailed comet.

Reinhardt grinned, like a lone wolf that was joined by a pack. This… this was a sign as sure as any that they were blessed. This battle would be theirs. With a roar, he threw himself back into the fight, his fatigue gone, confident in the knowledge that today he did Sigmar's work.

He pushed himself further, driving forth the wedge of uncertainty that now befell the cultists. With each swing he took, he drove them further to a rout, and with that victory, Sigmar and Myrmidia be praised, they would triumph over the enemy.

The tell tale beat of wings made Reinhardt turn… and to his horror he witnessed his doom. There it was, in its corrupted glory, what must be a corrupted dragon as it spewed out a blast of energy from its breath, destroying the trebuchet.

Reinhardt was thrown by the explosion, his ears ringing as he blearily propped himself up with his hammer.

"We have but one choice now," he said as Eve ran up to check on him. "We must flee."

"And abandon the villagers?" she asked.

"No. we rescue who we can, and hold off these cultists as long as we can." Reinhardt sighed, accepting his doom. "We… we may die here this night, but we will not go quietly."

"Then we must gather who we can, bring them to the Chantry. It's our sturdiest building." she sighed, as she gripped her sword tighter. At a nod, Reinhardt grabbed his maul and prepared himself for the fight of his life.

Together, they sallied forth, back into the village. They rescued whoever they could from the cruel blades of the Venatori, for they took no offer of surrender. The Venatori offered no quarter. It was for the best, Reinhardt supposed. Any prisoners would likely face a fate worse than death if they did.

Again and again, did he throw himself into the thickest of the fights. Saving whoever he could, taking blows that dented his armor, as he sacrificed in Sigmar's name. For every life he saved, and cultist finished, he offered each unto Sigmar, in praise for everything Sigmar has given.

"Foul Undead, Orc and the Wicked," he roared as he slammed into another cultist. "Alone, the tribes could not stand. United, none could stand against them!" He roared, singing praises in His name.

Tonight, the enemies of Man may take his life, but he will make them pay dearly for it.

When Eve declared, they had done all they had after saving a score of villagers, Reinhardt followed her lead back towards the Chantry, slaying any cultists along the way.

The Chantry's floor was bathed in blood. The wounded were being tended to by overtaxed surgeons and exhausted mages. It looked like for every one person they saved from Morr, another three found their way to his Gardens.

"Cullen," Eve said to the approaching commander. "Tell me you have a plan."

"I'm afraid I have no plans for taking down an archdemon," he sighed. "Any time you've bought for us was taken when that thing cleared the way for the rest of the Venatori."

Archdemon eh? Fitting name for a herald of doom. It was no Chaos tainted beast but… it was still wrong.

"So far the only thing stopping the Elder One from destroying us all is you." Dorian pointed out to Eve. "Crushing all of us means destroying you, and… well he's destroying just about everything in his way to get to you."

"Me?" she gasped. "Why would anyone want me? Is it because I'm the 'Herald'? If it means stopping the slaughter of innocents I'd gladly surrender."

"Don't," Dorian sighed. "Those who didn't accept his rule in Redcliffe… it didn't end well."

"All that's left is to spite the enemy," Reinhardt declared. "We must make them pay for every life they take from now till the end."

"There's a way we can make them pay far far more than with what we have." Cullen smiled, a grin full of hate. "I spotted a surviving trebuchet before we closed the Chantry. We can turn it towards the mountains above us. One last avalanche to drown our enemies."

"I didn't come all this way to die thank you very much," Dorian huffed. "I'm certain we've still got alternatives."

"There is one," gasped a man, laying by the side, hand clutched towards his stomach. He did not have long for this world before Morr would claim him.

"Chancellor Roderick? What are you talking about?" Cassandra asked, her voice gentle.

"There is a path into the mountains…" he wheezed. "Andraste must..must have shown it."Only those who have taken the Summer pilgrimage would have known of it… to be the last." he coughed as Dorian immediately jumped towards him, tending to the wounded man as best he can.

"We have no time to lose then," Eve declared as she turned towards the rest of the group. At a nod, Reinhardt and the others volunteered for the fight of their lives. They would hold so that others may live. Sigmar help them all.

"Wait for us to reach the treeline…" Cullen said, a sad smile on his face. "I wish you all luck. Maker guide you all."

Reinhardt and the others sallied out of the chantry, like heroes of old. Bull and the warriors by his side, a solid wall of steel demolishing all in their way. Sera and Varric picked off anyone they see while a familiar young lad weaved between the lines, striking at targets of opportunity.

Finally the Mages reminded the world of their power. The raw elements of the world, fire and lightning, ice and pure metal unleashed upon the enemies of man.

Yet Reinhardt knew that the enemies they felled were but a drop in the ocean. They must reach that damn trebuchet to give the refugees a fighting chance. Maybe it will be they who shall finish the fight.

Left and right, he swung his hammer, singing praises in His name. All eyes turned to them, and so long as the enemy saw the gnat, they would not see the others flee.

An eternity of fighting later, and they had reached the weapon, miraculously intact and loaded after the fighting. Mustering what strength he could, Reinhardt grabbed one end of a gear, while Bull grabbed the other. Together, ever so slowly, they pushed the weapon into position while the others fended off what had to be an entire regimen of men.

Briefly he caught glimpses of what went on around him. Cassandra, emulating the Templars in countering the enemy's foul sorceries. Kat, summoning Chamon to turn flesh to gold. Varric and Sera, performing shots that would've turned a Hochlander green with envy.

Yet for Reinhardt, there was nothing now, but the damn gears of this ancient weapon, and him turning it. He strained against the lever, the exhaustion of battle creeping up on him, yet with a roar he did pushed harder again, even as fireballs flew over his head.

Dimly he heard his name, before a searing heat threw him flying and straight into Bull… then darkness.

In and out of consciousness, he heard vaguely the cries of battle. Echoes on the wind. Glimpses of what was going on. Kat turning sorcerers into gold. Eve rallying the others together. The dread wings of that dragon.

All that time, he said, he hoped he said his final prayers onto Sigmar and Morr. He detailed everything he has done, his deeds, and his hopes, his sacrifices unto Sigmar. He hoped it was enough, to have lived a life such as this.

He saw one mage, a cruel grin plastered on her face as she summoned forth fire in her hand. In that moment, everything was clear. He knew what words he spoke, he could make out every detail on her face. From the jagged scar above her lip to the white of her teeth.

He smiled, as he finished what he figured was his last prayer to Sigmar.

"Sigmar, suffer not the witch to live." he breathed.

Fire rained from the sky, illuminating everything in Sigmar's holy light. Eve and her company were untouched, shock displayed on all their faces, even as the Venatori were caught in Sigmar's holy fire. Reinhardt smiled as he relaxed, knowing his duty was done.

He felt himself be slung up onto someone's shoulder, the breeze of the wind as someone ran and he quietly slammed against bare skin. He struggled to open his eyes, to see the battle finish at least.

In the end, he opened his eyes to see Haven below, and a burning twin tailed rock slam against the side of the mountain, and Haven was no more.

 

[SharkGlue]

AN: So new job, new life and all guys. Here's hoping I don't screw things up there haha. Anyway, updates will slow considerably with the new job. Here's the next part for you guys! Thanks once more to my friend @RedrumSprinkles for her help in this

As far as Eve was concerned, her life has just gone progressively weirder and shittier by the day. First it started with waking up with a weird mark on her hand and a hole in the sky. Not to mention being chained in a dungeon and blamed for it. The next day, she's seen as the Herald of Andraste, and a member of the merry band that was seriously considering killing her. That was over a month ago. Today, she's the sworn enemy of what looks like the first darkspawn, who intended on becoming a god, and she's his only rival. All the while, she's fought alongside a famous writer, an ex-Seeker, a Tevinter mage, a Grey Warden, apostates, and two people who follow foreign gods and are literally from another world.

Fate must be having a laugh, because she was either cursed, or had the shittiest luck in the world. If someone told her this would be happening to her months ago, she'd have called them mad.

She had no idea how long ago that was though. The last thing she remembered was a defiant quip before launching the trebuchet… then a mad dash into the old tunnels beneath Haven. She shivered. The old cultists that used to live here riddled the mountain with tunnels. Maker knows what might lay beneath. Either way, she didn't know how long she'd been out cold.

She'd lost her sword and shield, not a sign of either anywhere among the darkness of the tunnels. With some careful examination, Eve figured she hadn't broken anything at least. Everything was sore and bruised, but she was alive.

Small mercies. Now to find a way out of these dim tunnels. If there was one good thing about her damn Mark,( aside from its ability to close rifts), was that it glowed. She grinned as she held her hand aloft, slowly inching her way forward by the light of her hand.

She followed the wind, as it blew in fresh mountain air, one hand on the old mine shaft walls, and the other lighting the way. Whatever the cultists did down here, it looked like mining to her. Not surprising, the Frostbacks were famous for their mineral riches. That explanation would be a lot better than arcane blood magics and human sacrifices that some of the old villagers claimed.

Eve walked for what felt like forever. Under the dim light of her mark, she had no way of telling time. For all she knew, it might have been a full day since she was last awake. Already she could feel the pangs of hunger and thirst, steadily creeping in. She ignored it, soldiering on as best she could.

Eventually she reached a small cavern ringed with old mining gear. There was probably a large deposit here or -

Suddenly the shaft erupted with the shrieks of a pair of despair demons.

"Oh shit," she muttered. Without thinking, Eve took the Mark… raised it to the sky and pulled.

A Rift opened and sucked in the demons. The tell-tale glow of the Fade grasped at these demons, bringing them back to their proper place. their screams echoing throughout the mine. As soon as they were sent back to the Fade, she shut the rift, as much a habit now as ever.

"Okay," she mused. "If I can close Rifts, I can open them too. Let's file that skill under emergencies only, shall we?' she muttered. "As if things couldn't get any weirder."

"What am I saying? My life is just going to get weirder and weirder from here on out." She sighed, wishing for some sense of dreadful normalcy.

Of course,what she found the moment she left the mines wasn't a roaring fire and the comfort of finding friends that are still alive. Instead, a howling blizzard raged about the Frostbacks. Muttering every curse she could think of she pulled up her hood, tucked her hands under armpits,and marched following the trail of detritus the refugees left behind.

One foot in front of the other, she thought to herself as the icy winds cut through her skin. Just keep moving forward and she can have a nice warm fire, a good solid drink, maybe one of Varric's good books to read too. She'd even settle for a long rant from Cassandra on how she shouldn't have done any of this shit. She stopped only to grab anything remotely warm-looking. Scraps of cloth and leather, battered caps, she piled it all on above her armor, hoping that she'd make it through this storm with all her digits.

What felt like hours passed as the winds began to die down… though with the howl of wolves echoing throughout the valley, Eve sighed. She just couldn't get a damn break can she? It's as if fate has it out for her.

Still she marched on, whether it was out of pride or a sense of spiting fate, Eve really couldn't say. The march consumed her. One step forward, as she followed what little trail there was towards the Inquisition. The detritus of fleeing villagers, pots, pans, a tent here or there.

She tried to not count the number of bodies that had fallen by the wayside. Of how many of those had mortal wounds from the Venatori. Or how she took what she could from them.

As she passed into the relative shelter of a grove of trees. The howl of wolves rang across the mountains, echoing clearly through the howling winds. "Great. Just great," she muttered between her chittering teeth. Eve hoped she wouldn't have to deal with any of these mutts. The Frostbacks were a harsh place, and they bred a fierce people. Maker knows what it does to wolves to let them survive out here.

Still positive, she tried to think. She found a campsite, ice cold, but definite sign of the others passing by. She was close. She just had to tough it out. She won't let something like a little cold get rid of her. Not after all the shit she'd been through.

An eternity later, as she climbed one more pass, freezing cold, as if it went into her very bones. Yet the chill that ran from her neck came from one born out of long experience. She turned around to meet eyes with what perhaps the largest wolf she'd ever seen. Fur of pure white, and eyes of ice, and very hungry.

Eve grit her teeth. She didn't survive all sorts of bullshit only to be taken down by a mutt. She survived an explosion that devastated a mountain. Climbed out of the Fade, survived a demon that invaded her mind. Warmed up by a bout of adrenalin, she bared her teeth in challenge to the wolf. It snarled back, growling a challenge. Before it leapt in.

In a haze of fury, Eve roared back. She side stepped the beast as it jumped and grabbed it by the scruff of its neck.

The wolf snarled as it struggled to rip and tear Eve's throat, but she wouldn't give it leverage. With a strength she didn't know she possessed and roar of rage she beat on the wolf's head. Again and again, she beat on it with her mailed fist, until at last when the wolf whimpered, defeated and exhausted- She snapped its neck. She roared, a howl of victory, something primal born deep within, smiling as she reveled in the victory.

The wolf lay dead on the snow… and she was so tired. She collapsed, just as the familiar sound of Cassandra's voice echoed and she dropped into unconsciousness.