Role

Chapter 9

The drow Hanhangha was little more than a ripple in a pond trying
to topple a great war barge. All those in the tree could sense it
and yet with the Codex simply returned, visions of Death filled
Varrics head, the call was strong there was to be a fight and
someone was going down. With druid and ranger by the drows side
Varric had inflicted enough wounds to kill the drow two times over.
Yet the dagger wounds Varric has sustained were taking their toll
there was not a single part of his body uncut and bleeding, just as
the drow switch from daggers to axes an intoxicating and beautifully
spoken voice filled his head.

"Not here, not now."

With those words the duergar fell back and moved magically to safety
the time was there to mend wounds and hobble somewhat to the crypts
under the city of Arkham. The blood continued to pour from his wounds
and it was not long until every piece of armor had a coating of blood
on it. When the drow arrived he knew he was trapped, to close to the
city healer, as he quaffed the potion of teleportation there was
something vastly different. Suddenly cold his direction was abruptly
changed and sent hurtling to the feet of the faithful defenders deep
within Dra'Melkhur. It did not take long in that place, the larger
number of inhabitants drawn by the scent of blood.