Evelyn

The tiny templar waited in the shelter provided by the stonework's imperfection until the shadow of the collosal dwarf had long passed.  She then wasted no time in scaling along the rough stone rise and up from inside the seam to the vast landscape above.  Once more she marvelled at the scale of distance.  A few stone tiles constituted an entire landscape complete with blurred horizon.  In fact, she could just barely see the north wall where...  She squinted hard; then she saw it, a stone rune with the same glowing inscription which had hexxed her yet untriggered.  Dagda must have overlooked the rune as it had skidded far from the initial disaster, lying now partly beneath the shadow of the workbenches.  

Evelyn, always quick to reach the most practical solution no matter how insane the situation, began undoning her armor.  An entire countryside of granite lay between her and that rune and she estimated the chances of her running into Venatori on the floor to be very low.  She even considered leaving her heavy greatsword, but then the thought of insects or, heaven forbid mice, at her size occurred to her and she hastily resecured the blade at her back.  After she'd dropped as much weight as she cared to, the templar trucked off across the stone.  As she hiked her head still cycled about as she gazed up in awe at the immensity of just one single room.  The ceiling in particular, higher than the highest mountain, drew her awe.  She thanked Andraste she wasn't a dwarf.  "If they think the sky is too high, they should see this," she mumbled.

Fifteen minutes into her journey, the quirky dwarf turned giantess Dagda, reemerged into the room like a titan awakening.  Evelyn could see another giant with her, a human woman by the mountainous hourglass shape, but she dared not risk being crushed.  The instant they appeared she sprinted to the nearest crack and dove down into it like a harried soldier into the santuary of his foxhole.  There she waited out the thunder of giant footsteps and when the storm had passed she returned to her hike.  This process repeated over and over during the trip, wearing the tiny woman's nerves to the ragged edge.  More than once a boot sole, whether Dagda's or someone elses she could not tell, came down directly over her refuge blotting out the sky, shaking the ground, and raining dirt, gravel, and other hail sized particulates on the tiny woman.  Had she dared to remain in sight in some desperate and fool hardy attempt to get noticed at the size of a flea, she'd likely be not but a itty bitty stain tracked unknowingly about Skyhold by her young dwarven arcanist.

Finally, after hours of hiking and countless dives for safety, Evelyn did reach the embracing cool of shadow beneath the workbench.  Knowing that people didn't usually walk under the table, she breathed a sigh of relief as her nerves began to relax.  Surveying her surroundings she saw a stonescape covered in a thick dust layer like ash fallout from a recent eruption.  Standing amidst the detritus were wiry balls of lint, hair and other assorted trash some of which were the size of massive boulders to the tiny woman.  "Dust bunnies," she muttered, "I'm being towered over by dust bunnies."  

Not long into the 'shadow realm' she found the rune, it's magical script glowing with a familiar violet.  Evelyn approached the artifact with two plans in mind.  One, she could count on Dagda to find the object and, under close inspection, her as well.  Two, she might use her own knowledge of runes, to reverse the hex.  One was admittedly more likely, but both required she climb onto the stone.  Dagda won't be looking at the floor around the rune and to study the script herself she needed to be up on the face of the stone.  Evelyn fumbled around at the edge of the object, a good five times her height, until she found a halfway decent handhold.  Climbing up the relatively smooth face, she found herself doubly glad, after the long hike, that she'd left her heavy plate behind.  Even if that meant running around in naught but your linens.

After some sweat and more than a few unladylike grunts, Lady Trevelyan reached the upper ledge and sprawled out onto the flat face of the rune.  Little wider than a person's palm, the stone was as wide as a pond to the shrunken inquisitor.  The incandescent rune script ran across its smooth stone face like elegant lava flows glowing warmly in the shadow under the benches.  Even at closer inspection, however, Evelyn recognized nothing familiar in the rune though it did seem to be of the same kind which shrunk her, perhaps the exact same.

The crashing sound and reverberations of footsteps interrupted the templar's train of thought.  Ever the optimist, she turned around hoping Dagda had seen the runestone and her trials would soon be over.  Unfortunately the giantess looming over the rune, casting it and her in even deeper shadow, was no dwarf.  Quite the opposite, those untamed blond bangs and broken nose could only belong to one person, Sera.  

"Oh shit," Evelyn cried as she nearly fell back under he sheer size of the face looming above.  She knew the self styled Red Jenny was no fan of personal hygeine, but at such magnification the flaws already visible to those of the same size reached truly horrific proportions.  The greasy unsoaped skin, the pitting of blackheads and the patches of untended peach fuzz.  She could even see the details up Sera's nose and it practically made the hardened warrior faint outright.  She occasionally thought of Sera as a little monster, now she knew that was exactly half right.

"Sera!!!  Sera down here!!"  Evelyn jumped up and waved but to no avail. The elf's eyes glittered with greed and her hand reached out.  A palm glistening with sweat replaced the acned face and a second later the inquisistor was pressed face down against the stone.  Above her, the sticky warmth of the she elf's hand and below her the cold unyielding surface of the rune stone.  Evelyn tried to scream, but the voice of the elf thundering like a Goddess stamped out her own with the words, "THE SHINIER THE RUNE THE BOOMIER THE ARROW, RIGHT."  Moments later, Evelyn was tumbling into the pitchblack of what she could only guess was a pocket.  Thankfully she fell clear of the runestone which might have very well crushed her and landed in the sagging yet coarse embrace of cheap fabric.  For a few seconds light shown through from above, then a button sealed off the world leaving her alone with the rune and an assortment of lint.  "SERA!!" she screamed one last time, but to no effect.  Evelyn's head fell into her hands.  She was now an unwitting captive of the most immature, irresponsible, violent, unpredictable and unclean member of the entire Inquisition.  "I can't believe I ever thought about dating her," the Inquistor moaned to herself in the dark.