Inquisitor
Evelyn's instinctive bellow at Dagda arose from her diaphragm but died in her throat as the enormity of a new world descended upon her. The undercroft, previously the size of a small amphitheator now stretched out in all directions, a cavern of infinite scope. Crafting stations, grinding stones and anvils, stood like great monoliths on the horizon clouded by height and distance. One of those monoliths, Evelyn noticed, seemed to be moving. Squinting her best at the mountainous form, the shrunken templar realized that that was no monolith, it was a dwarf.
Her mind raced. Just how small was she. A cursory glance at the nearest seam in the stone floor, a wide ravine from her perspective, affirmed her size on the scale of the tiniest ants. 'Maker,' Evelyn worried, 'will anyone even be able to see me.' The thought pressed on her mind with increasing weight as the giantess Dagda drew closer and her plump shadow engulfed the insectile inquisitor.
Impacts from the dwarf's boots sent shockwaves through the stone, the unexpected first wave nearly hurling Evelyn off her feet. Despite the danger of those boots the enormity of Dagda drew the templar's eyes inexorably upward. She recalled the dwarf's insane musings a month ago after Leliana had convinced her, against her better judgement, to allow one of the arcanist's crazed Fade experiments. One sentence sparked in her memory. "I felt tall, really tall." Well she was certainly tall now, not dwarf but mountain goddess, hypnotic by virtue of her sheer size and incomprehensible power. The Inquisitor felt an unfamiliar pang of insignificance in comparison, but she quickly repressed it. All magic could be countered, even the magic of the Breech. Surely this hex was no different.
Unfortunately, the oncoming dwarven giantess left little time for the templar to dwell on solutions. Every foot fall was sounding louder, every vibration rattling her armor more violently. She had to get off the floor or at least away from the open, yet all around her was naught but an endless expanse of uneven granite. Glancing about for salvation, her gaze latched onto the nearest seam, deep enough to hold her tiny body with room to spare. She wasted no time in rushing for it and, initially, toward the oncoming titaness. Sliding into the crevice and falling a few feet down to the dusty interior, Evelyn could finally catch her breath and corral her thoughts. The first of these thoughts turned out to be one familiar to all templars. "This," she affirmed aloud, "is why people fear magic."
Dagda
She didnt get it. She walked right up to where the Inquisitor was standing and found... nothing. Usually when she blew someone up there was at least a bit of ashes on the floor. This time nothing. Common people told stories about vanishing magics of course but Dagda, despite being incapable of magic, had studied it extensively. She knew that magic which made things disappear or otherwise mutated space were as rare as those which altered time. Of course, the Breech had proven that almost anything is possible, but these runes were old works, unconnected with the recent apocolypse.
Dagda knelt down and wiped a finger across the stone. She inspected her glove and found only the familiar dust, no residue of a recently deceased inquisitor. In her mind she began rehearsing possible explanations to Cassandra. Few of the hypotheticals ended well. In fact, most ended with an angry Seeker dangling her over the ramparts.
She had to find their leader and fast. It wasn't just her carreer or safety on the line. Only the Inquisitor could seal the Breech once and for all, only the Inquisitor could face Corypheus. If her rune had truly destroyed the Inquisitor then it had also destroyed the world. Typically Dagda was glad to solve problems on her own, other people and their old thinking usually just got in the way, but this was too big for her. She needed help. Help from someone who knew magic and could keep a secret better than an Orlesian bard. "...Leliana!" Dagda exclaimed, before rushing rapidly out of the undercroft.