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The stone floor is cold. A trail of water drips slowly down the far wall. The light is dim, a few grumpily smoldering coals in a brazier above.
Her left hand aches abruptly, a pulse like all her joints ossifying at once before the sensation fades again. This is accompanied by a dull flash of green light. She's kneeling, hands locked shoulder-width apart by a metal bar clasped tightly around her wrists.
Sounds of footsteps in the corridor beyond say she may have visitors soon.
"I will be waiting with bated breath for you to unveil the fruits of your collaboration." And under her breath, "Maybe you can get him to write the next chapter of Swords and Shields at the same time..."
"Somehow, I am not terribly reassured."
"I think we are approaching Redcliffe."
She'll accept the redirection gracefully. For now.
And she turns towards Redcliffe, curious what the big fuss is about.
Well, at the moment-
The big fuss appears to be about the rift outside the main gates. They're still behind a hill, but the green glow is very distinctive.
Luckily, they've gotten into a bit of a routine with these by now, though the locals might complicate things...
Still: onwards past the hill.
There's only one local at the scene, a powerful mage from the way she's throwing lightning around, bursting the demons practically as soon as they materialize.
"Oh good," she calls, catching sight of Bellona and the others. "Ahead of schedule, too. Come and close this, will you?"
Bellona fortunately barely avoids faceplanting about sudden pretty girl throwing lightning at enemies. (How is that fair to Bellona, really, what has she done to deserve this?)
She does, however, rush to close the rift.
The mage sends out a final surge to clear the way before Bellona arrives, then leans on her staff to watch her work. Her staff is slightly taller than she is, a little over six feet, and made of black wood with a white crystal orb cupped at the top. The bottom is tipped with a steel counterweight and the staff itself is ramrod straight. Her clothes are similar in style to the few other mages Bellona has seen associated with the Inquisition, but of much finer cloth and more elaborate stitching, well-tailored to flatter her form (even if they are somewhat stained around the edges by travel).
Closing the rift goes smoothly, though it seems to go quicker than normal. Bellona gets the sense that the others are moving in slow motion as green magic snaps out from her hand before slowly, almost teasingly, making the final connection to the rift core and allowing her to wrench it shut.
She notices - of course she does - and in that sped up moment memorizes everything about the scene, everything different or new, for later analysis.
And then she turns to the strange mage, the exhilaration of closing the rift temporarily buoying her through the aaaaaa pretty girl.
"Thanks for the help," she says.
Oh no now the 'aaaa pretty girl' is catching up.
She blushes and grins broadly. "It's my pleasure." Wait no that was such a dumb thing to say. Bellona get it together, she tells herself (and herself retorts 'but pretty girl').
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