More shapeshifter Lavellan
Blood dripping from crimson-soaked fangs. Leathery wings, torn and split from jagged claws, burned in patches from Lusacan’s flames.
Rook and their companions scramble out of the way as a new high dragon joins the fray.
Fen’Harel lays prone beneath the Vinsomer, not much larger than him, but a force of nature regardless. She is all sparks, and thunder, and fury. She lunges for Lusacan and buys Fen’Harel time to breathe.
It is a vicious struggle, Rook weaving through the warring behemoths to slash at Elgar’nan.
Lusacan falls, and Elgar’nan is mortal. Rook twists for one last stab- and slices into a scaled maw that bites down and crushes the once-god’s torso with a sickening snap.
New rifts tear into the space around them as the Veil begins to unravel. There is no time to lose—Fen’Harel is still weakened, but one of the Elvhen gods regardless-
Except, they do not see Solas right away. They come face to face with a snarling Vinsomer, glowing leg flickering in time with the rift-light. She is all tattered wings and burned scales, and swirling spirit-magic. Behind her, six blazing eyes lock onto the lyrium dagger in Rook’s hand.
