Kirk Tabris

“Is he…?”

“No, he isn’t”

“But his face-”

“I know, Alistair, I saw it too, but it is a face I have seen before, and you have too”

“What?”

Wynne sat by Kirk, the blonde elf deep asleep, recovering from the injuries he sustained from the attempt to rescue Anora from Arl Howe’s estate. After applying her magic and dressing his wounds, she had, at the request of Alistair magically probed the young man’s unconscious for signs of demonic possession, and she had found none. The three that had been with him at the estate; Wynne, Zevran and Alistair had kept his terrifying but temporary transformation a secret from the others and simply told them that he had been overwhelmed by enemies and passed out after slaying them, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

Kirk had lifted himself up from a crumpled heap on the floor despite the countless injuries he had sustained, despite the arrows that punctured his body, and broke Ser Cauthrien’s neck with his bare hands. He had taken up her massive sword and swinging it like it were a knife slaughtered the rest of their assailants before passing out. They had all seen face; morphed into something else entirely, his features harsh and pronounced, his eyes like that of a wild cat, his skin ashen as indescribable dread emanated from his body in waves.

 

“Do you remember the inhabitants of Haven, The warriors that thought that High Dragon was the new incarnation of Andraste? When they fought they had the same face”

“Does this mean our sexy leader is a blasphemous dragon-worshipper? How very exciting” responded Zevran nonchalantly as he learned against one of the walls, but as Alistair turned to give him a disapproving glare he caught the worry etched on the assassin’s face, betraying his true feelings and the Ex-Templar turned back to Wynne and Kirk.

“He can’t be, he stared them in the face and told them they were insane, he led our charged against the High Dragon!”

Wynne smiled warmly at Alistair in his exasperation and waited for him to calm down, the young man burying his face in his hands in frustration, trying to understand what was going on.

“Joining that cult is not something he would do” affirmed Wynne.

“…How long do you think this has been happening to him?”

“I don’t know Alistair, I don’t know”