Chapter Text
The small settlement of Haven was bristling with activity. It seemed like half of Ferelden was here, pilgrims, making their way to pray at the Temple, mages and templars there to attend the conclave, (though they avoided each other like they had the Blight) and various other people there to bare witness to what everybody hope would finally be the end to this awful war. It was here that Marcus, hero of Skyrim, slayer of Alduin the World Eater, destroyer of Harkon, and bane of Miraak, found himself. Even in his human form, the Beast Blood gave him heightened senses.
Marcus felt a twinge of pain as the cold mountain air reminded him of home. The home he hadn't seen in half a decade. He wondered if the second war with the Aldmeri Dominion had begun, and the thought terrified him. The Empire was weak and the pointless war against the Stormcloaks had cost the lives of many men who were desperately needed in the fight against the damned Thalmor. Despite his worry, he forced his thoughts of home to the back of his mind. In his five years in Thedas, he hadn't been able to discover how to return home and he was dangerously close to drowning himself in misery.
Marcus had done everything he could to keep who he was and where he was from a secret from the people of Thedas. He saw the way they treated mages, and anything they saw as different scared them. He didn't want to think of how they would react to a man with immense supernatural power falling through a portal from another world, though he was felt that they would probably try to kill him. He had concocted a cover story of being the sole survivor of a shipwreck that had caused him to lose all memory of his life from before except for his name. He avoided using the Thu'um in the presence of others and nobody had pried further into his backstory. To the people of Thedas, he was just another human among thousands, though a much better fighter than most.
He sat outside of the tent he shared with a number of pilgrims just outside of the wooden palisade walls of Haven itself sharpening his dragonbone sword. His suit of Ebony armor and the Dragon Priest mask Otar sat neatly beside him, completely spotless. The Imperial had always been one for order, and his service in the Legion had only intensified this habit. The Chantry sisters had been unbelievably kind, caring for the needs of Templars, mages, and pilgrims alike as they made their way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes to bear witness to the conclave that everybody hoped would finally put an end to this devastating war.
He had come as an escort to a small group of minor nobles from Orlais who wanted to observe the Conclave for themselves, (and try to figure out how to turn the outcome to their own favor) and now that they were safely at the Temple, they had paid him his due and released him from their service. If there was one thing he liked about these Orlaisians, it was that they certainly paid well. The voyage from Lydes had been quiet for the most part except for a small group of bandits hoping to make easy prey of people traveling to the Temple. The fools chose the wrong caravan to attack and wouldn't be murdering and robbing anybody ever again.
A fearsome looking woman with a scarred face and short black hair walked past with a large, well armored, light haired man and a dwarf with the strangest crossbow he'd ever seen. He could hear hushed words spoken between the them, obvious that they didn't want to be heard by anybody nearby.
He watched them as they passed through the gate into Haven. The sun was low in the sky and he was getting hungry. With most of the travelers already at the Temple, he figured that the local tavern wouldn't be too busy and he'd treat himself to a hot meal and a few drinks with some of the money he'd earned from the Orlaisians. He got up, stretched his arms and legs and entered his tent to grab a coin purse, then made his way into the town.
A massive flash of sickly green light lit up the darkening horizon like like the breath of some enormous dragon, followed a heartbeat later by a shockwave that hit Marcus with the power of a hurricane, and the loudest blast he had ever heard, it was as though a thunderclap went off next to his head. He shouted in agony as the sound reverberated off of his eardrums, nearly causing them to burst. He could hear nothing but the torturous ringing. He looked at his surroundings, his vision blurred slightly by the pain in his head. People were pouring into the open from their homes, tents and the tavern. Many of them clutched their heads as he did as they stumbled into the streets. The Chantry doors burst open and the three individuals he'd seen walk past him just a few minutes before emerged.
The ringing Marcus' ears began to die down. 'that blast came from the Temple,' he thought to himself. He could see the blonde soldier shouting orders. A number of Ferelden soldiers, and a few Templars started to gather in the courtyard in front of the Chantry. Marcus knew they were going to investigate the explosion and he had to be a part of it. It wasn't like him to sit idly by with a crisis on hand. Despite the splitting headache, and continuing ringing in his ears, he rushed back to his tent and grabbed his freshly sharpened sword. He had no time to don his armor, so the leather jerkin and trousers he wore underneath would have to do for the time being.
He made his way to the Chantry courtyard where two armed Ferelden soldiers stopped him. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" one of them demanded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"My name is Marcus, I'm here to help however I can." the Dragonborn replied.
"You know how to use that sword?" the other soldier asked.
"Better than most I suppose."
They huffed at that. "Alright... Marcus, if you think you can be useful, go talk to Commander Cullen." the first one said, pointing at the blonde man. Marcus nodded and the guards let him past. He jogged over to the commander and the man looked up.
"Commander Cullen? My name is Marcus, I'm here to offer my sword."
"Good, my troops are scattered across the valley and I don't know how many were killed in that explosion. We need to get down there and look for any survivors." Cullen motioned towards his two companions. "Marcus, this is Seeker Pentaghast. She will be staying here to maintain order."
The dwarf with the crossbow stepped forward extending his hand, which Marcus took in his own. "The name's Varric Tethras, perhaps you've read some of my..."
The commander silenced him with a stare "Now's not the time Varric" Cullen and turned to his men. "Time is wasting, let's move out!"
Before they could take even two steps one of the men stopped and stared at the sky, shock and disbelief planted on the features of his face. "Maker's breath! What is that thing?" Everybody looked to where he pointed. The sky was torn, a massive wound, the same sickly green as the explosion, spread for miles above where the Temple used to be, a trail of some energy stretched from the tear towards the ground. Fire fell from the breach like meteors, peppering the land below.
"I don't know, but it can't be good." Cullen exclaimed. "Go! Double time!"
The small company of men quickly moved out of town and across the bridge towards the Temple. What they found was a total ruin. Much of the valley was aflame and everything was blasted apart. There was barely a stone laying atop another. Charred corpses littered the ground and in the center of it all was a strange green portal connected to the massive tear in the sky.
"What in Oblivion happened here?" Marcus muttered to himself under his breath, observing the total destruction that lay at his feet. "Commander, what is that thing?" Marcus asked pointing to the green portal.
"It looks like some sort of tear in the Veil, I wish I knew more." he gestured towards his men. "Spread out, look for any survivors!" Commander Cullen ordered. "Not that we're going to find any." Marcus heard him sigh quietly.
The Dragonborn slowly approached the rift, carefully stepping around the charred remains of those unfortunate enough to be caught in the blast. Against his better judgment, he reached up to touch the strange green rift when it suddenly burst to life, he jumped backwards, stumbling and almost falling as it opened up, someone fell through it and he leapt forward and caught them just before they hit the ground. Through the rift, he saw a glowing figure, vaguely human, but it slammed shut before he could see what it was.
"Commander Cullen!" He shouted, "A survivor!" He looked down at the person he held in his arms. A woman in her mid twenties, fair of skin with light brown hair and full pink lips. She stared back at him, fear, and confusion filling her light blue eyes. Her breath came quickly and heavily as she tried to say something but her lips couldn't form the words. "It's alright, you're safe now" he told her, though his voice betrayed his own uncertainty.
Cullen and a few other men had arrived and stared at the two on the ground. A green light flared brilliantly from her hand and she cried out in agony. Her body fell limp and her eyes shut as she fell into unconsciousness. "Did you get her name? Where she came from?" the Commander inquired.
"No..." Marcus replied "She... she just fell out of the rift. I thought I saw someone on the other side before it closed."
"She fell out of the rift!?" one of the soldiers asked,
"How could she have survived?" Another asked. "She has to be responsible for this."
"I don't know who's responsible for this, but right now she is our only lead." Cullen stated, silencing his men. "We need to get her back to Haven so Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Leliana can..."
"Commander! Look, the breach!" a soldier shouted. Everybody's eyes turned skyward as another swarm of green fireballs fell from the wound in the Veil. The green meteors blasted the ruined courtyard as men bolted for any cover they could find.
"Andraste save me!" One man screamed as one of the balls of fire struck a pillar mere yards from him. From the craters and flaming remnants of the meteor strikes rose some sort of horrific, humanoid creatures Marcus had never seen before, but Cullen had.
"Demons"