The storm that filled the skies above Minrathous had been going on for the past few days, causing the sea that surrounded the island to rage and roar with a wraith that surpassed even the creatures that dwelled in it. But despite the monstrous weather the streets of the city were alive with the movement of it's people rushing past each others, most of which were elven slaves or servants sent out into the storm to run some task their masters couldn't bother with themselves with.

As the poor elves scurried past each other in the rain a hooded figure made it's way through the crowds with a unsettling ease, as if the chaos around it didn't faze it in the slightest. It smoothly navigated the crowd until it reached the gates to a large manor, the gates were engraved with the name Sanguina and two bronze dragon statues stood on both sides of the gate. At the front of the gates stood a large man cladded in a black armor, which had a bronze dragon crest on it's chest. The only indicator that there was someone beneath the armor were his cold steely eyes that peeked through the small slit of a opening in his helmet.

The armored man eyed the hooded figure that had approached him, placing one of his gauntlet covered hands on the hilt of his sword. "What be your business here?" He asked in a ruff tone that had no problem cutting over the sound of the rain. The figure slowly pulled back it's hood to reveal the face of a fairly young elven man with dark brown hair and a tattooed face. The elf offered the guard a smirk before he spoke in a tone that dripped with sarcasm. "I'm here for the lady of the manor of course." As the words left the elf's mouth one could practically hear the guard grind his teeth. The guard went to strike the elf with the back of his hand only to be stopped by the elf pulling out a letter that held the same crest that was on his own armor. "As I said shemlen I'm here for the lady." The elf said as the guard snatched the letter and quickly scanned it over. "Very well." The guard grumble and handed the elf back the letter before he opened the gates. As the elf passed, giving the guard a final smirk and wink, and headed towards the manor the guard grumbled to himself again. "Dirty knife ear..."

The elf made it into the manor and out of the rain as quickly as he could, though he was stopped by three more guards and had to go through the same process of pulling out the letter for each one, before he made it to the main hall of the manor, which was a beautifully decorated room with a marble floor and crystal chandler that floated in the air just below the ceiling with the aid of some form of magic. The hall was also decorated with portraits of various people, but if one was keen enough they could tell that they were all in fact members of the same family, with the largest of which was a mural of a fair skinned and dark haired woman with a string of red roses in her hair that was painted just above the grand stairwell.

The elf walked around the room for a moment, his bare feet clapping against the floor causing a echo in the empty hall, before a feminine yet stern voice rang behind him from the stairwell. "You are ruining my floors." It said before the elf turned to find the same dark haired woman from the mural slowly walking down the stairs. She wore a elegant emerald colored dress, a string of creamy pearls around his her neck, and her dark curls flowed down just above her breast. The elf offered the woman a slight smirk as he looked down at the trail of dirty footprints he left, which lead all the way back to the front door. "I'm so sorry my lady, as you know us savages aren't too use to cleaning." he said as he looked back up to the less than amused face of the woman. "You are not here for your wit Harel'san, remember that." She said in the same stern tone as before. The elf's, who was now known to be Harel'san, smirk did not waver though, he knew that if he let her see such a thing she would doubt his capability for this task and that would make all the work he had done for the past few months worthless. "I know my lady, just think of it as a bonus." He said as he ran a hand through his oak brown hair, trying to dry it out as much as possible. The woman had made it down the stairs and to a collection of chairs that were placed around a low standing table. She took a seat and stared at the elf until he followed suit. The woman then clapped her hands once which caused a young elven girl, who was no more than a child, to scurry up to the two with a tray that held a tea pot and cups. The young elven girl did not wait to pour and hand a cup to the lady. As the woman started to enjoy her tea, the young elven girl standing by and gawking slightly at the older elf, Harel'san leaned forward slightly. "What is it you want me to do Lady Vasilia." He asked only to be greated with a cold smile that played it's way across the magister's lips. "Now now Harel'san, we must wait for the others."

Hushed whispers and shocked gasps could be heard near the bridge heading towards Minrathous. The only bridge, in fact. The cause of this curiosity was a large human being, clad in armor. That in itself wasn't too unusual. What was is that the armor was that of a Grey Warden. The Grey Warden, in fact. Here to answer a missive he intercepted. The details were vague and frankly it all seemed too under-the-table for him. But a job was a job, and The Grey Warden was the man for it. Besides that, it'll be interesting, if it's not very productive. Most of the guards gave him a wide birth, and even those who had reason to hold him up quickly let him on his way when he showed them his letter. He didn't know the name on the paper, nor the significance of the person. He knew that she was a noble, which also implies she's some sort of mage. The title Magister certainly implies this. Tevinter itself had the reputation of being a nation for mages. Whether this is a good thing or not wasn't something The Grey Warden cared about. What he did know was that there were many powerful mages in the country, and it would be unwise to anger any of them. But the same could be said of angering anyone.

The Grey Warden would prove this point as he was trying to head towards the magister's manor, but some sort of disturbance on the street was blocking his path. Seemed that a few caravan wagons have suddenly broken, blocking the entire street. The Grey Warden would have waited, but it seemed the the blockage not only slowed down traffic, but also made it difficult for repairs to be done as there was too many people for get the equipment through. The Grey Warden had no interest in sticking around, so he had to find a detour. He somewhat was surprised when as he took a fairly large alley way, he was accosted by a gang of masked and hooded brigands. The Grey Warden wondered what sort of experiments goes on in this city that lowly thugs think that attacking a Grey Warden, donned in full armor, would be a viable idea for them. They wouldn't get much of a chance to reflect on their actions on account of being dead, and the Grey Warden now began to wipe the blood and gore off his armor. The rain helped clean his armor, but also gave him a wet, corpse smell.

Eventually The Grey Warden made it to the manor, and had even used the money he picked off the thugs to purchase gifts for the lady of the house, possible guests, and something to cover up the stench of death that was on him. The guard at the gate gave him a look that showed confusion, amusement, and a hint of fear. It may mostly be due to his scent, which was that of apple and honey as well as the smell of decaying flesh, though the idea that a Grey Warden has come to visit them was perhaps something that made the guard wonder if he was going to be allowed to join the order. But The Grey Warden quelled these curiosity when he revealed his letter, like the elf before him. Unlike the elf before him, The Grey Warden encounter no other guards who asked to see his papers aside from the guard who stood outside the Lady's entrance hall. He showed his papers, and the guard asked: "Here to see milady? Here to recruit for the order, eh?" The Grey Warden said nothing. The Guard likely expected some sort of responds, as the two stood in awkward silence for a good five minutes. While one could tell that the guard, clad in dark armor with a Bronze emblem on his chest, was not a golem for the eyes that pierced through the visor, the same could not be said of The Grey Warden. Looking into his visor only revealed a darkness and a sense of emptiness, not from a lack of a physical presence, but a spiritual one. It was as though he was a deadman walking, which given the fate of most Wardens, is not farfetched.

Soon enough The Grey Warden finally was allowed an audience with the lady of the house. It seemed that she was already entertaining a guest; an elf mage, from his equipment. The Grey Briefly wondered if he was a native to these lands but than quickly ceased such thoughts. It didn't matter; he was here for the job. There was a table and chairs arranged, and the multiple amounts of chairs implied that he would be working with many others. The Grey Warden took his seat and took out his letter, his own method to express his purpose being here. When the elf servant came to pour him tea, he waved her away. He did not drink.

"By the time this is set and done, I am going to need to buy stronger ale. Bloody rain." A horned figure casually walked down the streets of Minrathous and through the crowds of elves and humans that were slaves and servants to the magisters that ruled Tevinter. Being in a country where mages is the ruling body is extremely better than living, let's say, Ferelden or any other Templar infested country. Being distracted by the elves and humans running errands for their masters that don't want to go and get their hands dirty, the figure found their self in front of a large gated mansion. The crest that was on the invite was the same as the crest that was on the armour that the guard was wearing. "I'm sorry, but I am cold, wet, and I want a good drink of something strong...so I think that the head of this household is waiting on me." Pulling out the invite from their traveling pack, a smirk appeared on the figure's face when it appeared that the guard just wanted to draw his sword on the figure in front of him. It was like none of these people ever saw a Qunari before let alone a female one, despite the countless wars they had with her own people. Walking pass the guard she gave a mock salute and headed to the entrance. The rain was making her want to drink everything that she keeps on her person.

When she walked inside the sight, she stopped at the sight of the inside of the mansion. "Holy...don't want to know how much this costs. Much more than I manage to make, that's for sure." Whoever manages the mansion was lucky that she didn't have a mouth full of ale or the floor in front of her would have gotten ale all over it. Apparently someone already beaten her to it with the muddy footprints on the marble floor. At lease she's not the only one that doesn't wear shoes...when she's not being forced to wear the leather boots she keeps on her person. As she started to follow the footsteps to where ever they lead to, three other guards stopped her until they each saw the invite she had in her hand. Everything about this place just screams over indulgence, from the floor, to the ceiling, and to everything in between said places. Now that she thinks on it, its probably a way for a magister to show their wealth and power in society as much as their title is proof enough of the power they hold. "Hello? Is there anybody here, or did I make the mistake and walk into an expensive looking guard barracks? Which I think is very unlikely." She said to the air until she finally decided to take a big drink from the bottle of ale she keeps on her. It could be that she's the first one here, or that she's late for whatever she's was called for. Templars have a hard time finding her when she doesn't want to be found, but how this magister managed to find her like she was a simple person was beyond her. Some kind of magic that she never heard of was probably the case. Nothing should surprise her while she's here.

The mage used a cone of cold on Karine, hoping to freeze her solid. But her blood was boiling too hot to be frozen in ice, and she charged. Slowly, but she was charging nonetheless. By the time the mage's spell was over Karine emerged from the frost and tackled the mage over with her shield. It knocked him against the railing and nearly over the water but he managed to keep himself steady. Karine's body was weighed down by ice now, but she wasn't going to worry about that. "Pathetic!" She roared as she charged the mage again. He ran to the opposite side, his light weight and speed being the only thing keeping Karine away from him. He tried to blast a bolt of magic at Karine, but it sputtered into nothingness against her shield. Right as he was going to try to run again Karine caught up to the mage and knocked him over with her shield. She raised her morning star up high and brought it down onto the man, who managed to block the first place at the expense of his staff. The second blow managed to crush his ankle as he tried to roll away, and now he was in no position to run. Underneath her full-face helmet Karine snarled at the mage. "Is that it? That is all that you could do? Weakling!" Karine brought her morning star up high to kill the mage, but he had one last trick up his sleeve.

Using the blood that was pouring from his ankle, he used the last bit of his magic and some of his own blood to summon three demon of rage between him and Karine. The summoning caused a small explosion, one that knocked the mage down to the lower deck and caused Karine to stumble, but she stood her ground. The warrior smirked as the demon roared at her, and she resumed her stance. "This should be fun... Let's go!" Karine charged at the demon just as the demon lunged at her.

The scene on the boat did not go unnoticed by the city however. Various onlookers ran away screaming, hoping to warn the local authorities of what was going on. One man in particular, more interested in spreading the news, went inside a tavern and shouted over the noise. "There are demons in the city! They're just underneath the bridge, a Templar is fighting them all by herself!" This caused a few people to get up and head towards the bridge to watch the fight, against all better logic.

Karine charged the three demons as they attacked her. Two of them jumped on her, thinking they could crush her under their combined weight. But Karine was no lithe elvish lass; the weight of both demons were nothing to her. She tossed the off her back, one who fell into the water, the other who landed on the deck below. Karine than began to brutally pummel the demon despite suffering burns from it's flaming flesh. The pain from her weapons was much greater than the pain of the demon's fire. With a final smash, Karine felt her morning star break through the deck as the demon was no more. Only a blacken smudge remained of his existence in this world.

Standing to her feet, Karine looked at the next Rage Demon. He threw a fireball at her which engulfed Karine in flames. The demon, in it's arrogance, roared in victory. Except that he did not win. Running out of the inferno Karine's form emerged, wreathed in flames. Painful flames, but it did not kill her yet, so she continued to fight. She tackled the beast into the water, extinguishing the flames. The demon began to beat on Karine's body, tried to wrap it's hands around her neck, but everything he did Karine did to him first. With a firm death-grip around the base of it's head, she began to pummel the demon, so ferociously that the damage was still quite a lot even as the two were sinking. Eventually the demon was killed, and Karine swam back to the surface before running out of air. Her body was sore, muscles ache, and the sting of burnt flesh would have killed other men, or at least incapacitated them. But Karine was not like other men. Not like Templar's who only chased after mages who were in over their heads. Mustering her energy Karine climbed back onto the deck of the ship.

Karine tracked the Blood Mage down into the lower deck, his trail of blood giving him away. How he planned to escape Karine wasn't certain, as he was hardly trying to hide himself. He leaned against the wall of the boat, his breath heavy and his body shaking. He would likely be killed by his own blood lost within the next few minutes, and would prove to be no challenge at all. Karine regretted not going to kill that Demon first, but she had a job to do. The Blood Mage began to throw insults at Karine, taunting her Templar Order and decrying them as an evil organization who does nothing but oppress innocent mages and force them to do evil just to escape their regime. He might of have more to rant about, but it was quickly silenced when Karine smashed his skull in with her Morning Star.

Eventually Karine steered the ship to a dock, where Benedict had the smarts to find her at. She was exhausted, but entertained. She'd need to go find a healer to tend to her wounds, or at least a private place to do so herself. As she mounted on her horse she than remembered the reason why she was here; she had spent so much time chasing that pickpocket that she nearly forgot about the meeting with Lady Vasilia! "Come on Benedict! Hiya!" Filled with a new source of energy Karine spurned her horse into a full gallop towards the manor of the noble. It didn't take her long to arrive and less to go through all the guards. Most recognized her Chevalier Armor or at least the letter she held, which given that at least three others have arrived with the same letters, most knew better than to get in their way. She arrived in a room with a large table and chairs. She saw an Elf and a Qunari, both mages from their equipment and the sense of magic from them, a Grey Warden, and who Karine recognized as Lady Vasilia. "Greeting's milady. I apologize if I'm late, I had to settle a despite near the docks. My name is Karine Madeline. Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Jaitheia decided to take a good look at everyone that was in the room and saw that there was a Gray Warden in the room with them. It was strange that one would be here for whatever they are supposed to do. Maybe there will be Darkspawn to be encountered on their journey or it could be just another different reason as of why one is here. "May I ask why is a Greg Warden here? I thought your order was supposed to stay neutral in politics or anything that would ask you to take sides...or anything period." She waved the elf that offered her tea before she took a swig of her ale. Tea never did set well with her stomach to begin with, must be the herbs that flavors the water or something or other. Looking at the others, she noticed that one of them was, Dalish elf from what she hopefully remembered being told about them, and the other was wearing the armour of a templar. A frown appeared on her face, but why a templar is here is none of her business. Deciding that she doesn't want anyone to notice that she was displeased about something, Jaitheia turned her attention to her already half gone ale. "I'm already half drank of it? I need to stop taking big drinks. It needs to be savored." She was already feeling the effects of drinking too much ale in one setting, but if it will get her through this meeting of sorts then it will be acceptable for her until she becomes sober again.

The Grey Warden didn't look at the Kossith who questioned him. Frankly, he wasn't sure if he wanted to answer. Regardless of what the Kossith thinks of him, he was going to be on this job. Whys or hows were, ultimately, pointless. But The Grey Warden also knew that it the Kossith may have asked out of distrust; after all, what were they getting into, that a Grey Warden would be involved? At the very least, he'd quell some of her curiosities. Slowly, with a raspy voice and a slight lisp, the Grey Warden spoke. "I... Am not here for the Grey Wardens. I have arrived... On behalf of myself." The Grey Warden spoke with pauses between each breath, as though the act of speaking was something he had some difficulty with. Mostly due to inexperience; not a lot to talk about in the Deep Roads. "You are thinking you know of our kind, Kossith? It is understandable... But these things are quite different."

After speaking some another showed up. A warrior of some type, who wore the armor of Chevaliers. She seemed respectable enough, but the smell of fire was fresh off her person. What had she gotten into before she arrived, The Grey Warden wondered. More importantly, how had it ended? Either way the Grey Warden was curios if this was all who would be attending. He had figured there would have been more, what with all the chairs. Perhaps they would come later. Or maybe this was just a formality. The waiting, that insufferable waiting, made his nose itch. He didn't scratch it, but it did give him a feeling of uncertain dread.