Krios – 7 Days Ago
(Frostback Mountains)

Twenty one silhouettes trudged through the knee high snow as the blizzard raged around them. The children quietly wept as the icy hale bit at their skin. Two days they had been travelling and although they were so close to their destination they had lost over a third of their small clan. The weather was horrific, even for the mountain people who had spent most of their lives with snow beneath their feet. Two men and mother and her child had been lost at different times due to losing their footing, having on all occasions simply vanished from sight before anyone could help them. But nature wasn’t their biggest threat… the darkspawn was. Only a week before the clan had been living day-to-day life as usual, but sudden eruptions of darkspawn from the mountainside now forced the Darkhold Clan to flee to their allies to the North, to the Clan of Hafterhold. “Do you think our messengers reached them Krios?” asked Monetta, the shaman’s bodyguard and Krios’ cousin. The heavy set woman had an unusual look of worry upon her face and her knuckles were glowing white from how fiercely she gripped her spear.

“Our men are strong and fleet footed; I’m sure Hafterhold is sending reinforcements out to meet us as we speak.” Replied Krios clasping a reassuring hand on Monetta’s shoulder. They walked for a few more paces before Krios stopped in his tracks and looked back. His eyes widened and his hands quickly grasped at his axes. “Darkspawn approaching!” he barked, causing the clans warriors to form a defensive circle around the caravan. Quickly navigating his way into the middle of the crowd Krios made his way to Brandir, the clan’s Jarl.

“Krios! What’s the situation?” asked Brandir in a loud and commanding voice. It was an attempt to appear strong to his clan but his weak stature betrayed him and so those near him focused more on Krios.

“This my old friend is where we depart.” replied Krios in an apologetic tone.

“Depart?! But-? You cannot leave us! The clan needs you! You’re a grey warden! You’re supposed to protect people from the Darkspawn!” Brandir desperately stuttered.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. The Darkspawn have no business up on these mountain slopes, nothing to attract them or draw their attention… nothing but me. Continue forward to Hafterhold and I will draw them away.” and at that, Krios turned and sprinted off behind them without giving anyone the chance to say their goodbyes. He told himself it was better that way, that the quicker he got away from them the safer they would be. The reality however was that he was scared to leave them, scared that he might never see their faces again and that was why he had already stayed with them much longer than he should have.

---

Krios – Present Time
Denerim

Krios gently strolled along the eerily empty streets of Denerim, the morning dew dampening the earth beneath his feet as the thin veil of fog began to fade with the rising sun. A few trickles of life appeared in some buildings, be it a guard on route to their morning shift or a baker firing up their oven for their first loaves of the day. Many people might have called his journey serene, but for him it was still foreign and his muscles were unconsciously tensed from the uncomfortable feeling that being boxed in gave him. He was used to huts, caves and even old ruins, but they were relatively small and controllable – the city was not.

“Morning.” said a passing guard with a curious look. It caught Krios off guard and rather than responding Krios simply continued on towards his destination, his trail of thought lost. It took him some time to navigate the streets and find his way to the south east outskirt of the Palace district and there seemed to be more signs of life by the time he got there. His destination was a large 3 story manor with its north and west face exposed to the street. The manor’s other faces where hidden behind a high stone wall that’s top was noticeably slick with oil, and which Krios knew contained a nasty little ditch on the other side. The building itself was one of the older buildings of the city but had been well maintained (or least in the recent past) and as such looked noticeably better to some of the buildings in sight to the east. Upon reaching the buildings only external door Krios was surprised to be met by two guards, neither of whom he recognised.

“Halt sir, what is your business here?” asked the larger of two men.

“This is still the Grey Warden Compound, isn’t it” Krios placed his hands on his waist, just above his axes.

“Aye sir. The Blackstone Irregulars provide security to this premise of theirs. Now I’ll ask you again: what is your business here?” The two guards now also felt their hands slipping closer to their weapons in anticipation for a fight.

“I’m a Grey Warden. The name’s Krios. Both Duncan and Mayson know me well.” Krios replied. He didn’t know who the Blackstone Irregulars were, but he doubted they could have posed a threat to the wardens even if their Fereldan numbers well low. Duncan was a cunning man after all and he had King Calain’s favour.

“Ah, the Avvar barbarian. Mayson told us about you in case you ever showed up; you don’t come here as often as the other lot. Go right in, Mayson’s probably reading in the dining room.” Both parties stopped moving towards their weapons but the tension hardly faded, in good part because the guard had just called Krios a barbarian. Without saying anything else Krios walked past them through the large oak door, only giving a cold nod in thanks for letting him pass.

The entry hall seemed smaller than he remembered yet he knew little had changed. The same white and blue warden heraldry adorned each wooden pillar as he made his way along. The goat horn braziers still fluttered with barely enough fire to light the room. And the same large seats that spanned the edges of the room still sat unused and were covered in a thin layer of dust. The Wardens rarely had visitors and even when they did they were more likely to host them in another, smaller and more practical part of the building. Reaching the end the hall Krios turned into the dinning room to yet another familiar site, an old man sat reading at the crack of dawn. The man was in his early sixties, had short neat greying hair and had a figure that suggested he was still in fairly good health (at least for his age). “Hello Mayson, it’s been a while.” Krios said as he leant against the doorframe. The old man raised his head and grew a tremendous smile at the sight of his old friend.

“I was wondering when you would show your face Krios.”

A few days ago,
Sundown Hills bannorn

The Sundown Hills were many things, but prosperous they were not. The only reason the lands were recognised as a bannorn was the mines and a single keep, and even then they hardly put out anything of significance. Yet, Bann Tedryn Thire still lived, and ruled the Hills with some force. There is one thing of important to note about Sundown, one would have a rather hard time just trying to get themselves robbed or murdered, there is nary a bandit, or highwaymen in all the Hills. Which is most interesting considering just how many caravans pass on through the area. That can of course be explained by the company that a certain Bann keeps close at hand.

But that is hardly the kind of knowledge that you want in the open. Usually when someone hears 'Bann inline with Bandits', they assume that to mean most nefarious intentions. Not that he keeps them in line, and far away from his own domain. Having an seemingly endless amount of coffers, and contacts with even undesirable people can make fools do many a trick.

The Antivan Crows, or at least that's what Alexander Thire, second son of Tedryn's thought. They worked for everyone, and were most brutally efficient in there business, and it was no secret between the family that a certain father was fond of using the Crows.

This posed a small problem for Alexander, his wife was of child, and in a few short months his son would be born. This usually would not be a problem, if it weren't for the fact that Morin, Alexander's brother and the true prize son was meant to have fathered a child years ago. There are rumours about his 'inadequacy', which are seldom heards outside of closed doors.

"You're going to get yourself killed!" a woman shouted, Alex immediately stopped putting on his armour and turned to see what the commotion was.

"Eliza?" said Alexander, unsure as to why his wife had suddenly appeared

"Do you take me for some kind of fool, hmm?" Her Orlesian accent was slipping through, but the anger in her words was all to clear. "Think you could just cart me away, while you go gallivanting as a warrior to prove to daddy that your something?"

Alexander was a man of many talents, on one occasion he managed to diffuse a situation that would have ultimately ended in a war in the bannorn, but his wife? Everything he knew just did not work on Eliza, she was a different subject altogether. "I, uh, you know it's not like that." he said, the words bounding of her shield, "I want you to be safe, and I don't care what you think about it.-" Then he realised something, "You should be in Highever by now, how are you still here?"

"I was halfway along the Imperial Highway, when it dawned upon me why you'd sent me away. " Alexander had hoped his plan was foolproof, send Eliza away to Highever for a few weeks, she would be safe(r) up there, than in the Hills where his father's grasp was the strongest.

"So you decided to what? Come back and shout at me?"

She appeared to contemplate for a second, "Non, I came to do this." she said, walking up to the taller man and slapped him across the face. He was taken back by what had just happened. "That, and I wanted to see my 'ever-so-talented' husband do battle."

Still nursing the impact, Alexander was thoroughly confused by everything right now. "Something tells me there's no convincing you to leave this time, is there?"

"No, of course not. You should know that by now." He smirked, Eliza was a hard woman to understand at times, but that was the woman he had fallen in love with, and he wouldn't have it any other way. "What name are you fighting under?"

"I was thinking a Junior Knight from Redcliffe, how does Ser Henric sound?" Alexander had put a lot of work into coming up with his assumed identity. While he was going to be fighting with a full-metal helm covering his face, he still needed to maintain a cover story of sorts.

"I would have went with Highever, myself."she smiled, "that would just annoy your father to no end."

The night before Krios arrives in Denerim

The darkness was full and encapsulating, no moon or stars to illuminate the streets of Denerim tonight. It was the kind of darkness that made most people thankful to have a lock on their doors, or make children insist that their parents leave a lamp burning through the night. The kind of darkness that men like Faen lived for, one that would wrap them up like a warm blanket and hide their acts from prying eyes. A dark night made for darker deeds.

The assassin made quick time through the streets, his time as an urchin living rough giving him an insight of this city's twisting thoroughfares that would turn a guardsman green with envy. Even at the dead of night he was still more confident traversing this place than most people were through the day. He had an appointment to keep tonight, and he hated to be late.

Faen had been hired by a collection of Denerim merchants to deal with a problem they'd been having of late. That problem was named Caleb Losthill, a former mercenary lord who had been squeezing the merchants for protection money, claiming if they didn't pay him then their livelihoods good very well be in jeopardy. Two weeks ago one merchant had refused to pay Caleb's extortionate fee's, taking a stand against the former mercenary. The merchant went missing, and still hadn't been found, but word had got round that it was Caleb's doing, and anyone else thinking about skimping on the payments would meet a similar ignominious end. The rest of the merchants had nearly tripped over themselves in their attempts to ingratiate themselves with Caleb, but had secretly contacted Faen with their problem. Faen told them the same thing he told everyone wishing to contract his services. Two hundred and fifty gold sovereigns up front, then another two hundred and fifty sovereigns when the deed was done. It says a lot about how much Caleb was charging them that they were only to happy to pay.

Not that Faen expected this job to be easy, he had no allusions as to that. Losthill was an old mercenary, and as Marco used to say 'The only way you get old in that profession is to be as sharp as a executioners axe.' Couple that with the sort of security systems only an over abundance of money and caution could afford, a small private army, and the rumours that Caleb had somehow managed to procure the services of a apostate mage, then this job was shaping up to be interesting indeed.

He was approaching the Eastern bridge across Drakon river now, Faen residing in the Northern quarters while his quarry lived in the South. This time of night the bridge should be quiet, save for the occasional drunk or gold-wife, so it was with no small amount of surprise that he heard voices in the night air. Sense's honed by years of training with Marco instantly told him that something about this was not right. He approached the bridge slowly, as soft and quiet as a whisper of the wind, flitting between the shadows, never straying into the light. It took longer, but eventually he had worked his way to the edge of the street overlooking the bridge, the source of his disquiet revealing themselves to him.

A group of seven men were stood at the mouth of the bridge, arguing amongst themselves in the light of the torches they carried. They were armed well, five carrying clubs or axes, one had a bow slung across his shoulders, and the last, the biggest of the group and probably the leader, had the hilt of a sword showing at his belt. Faen made a noise, between a groan and a sigh, when he realised he recognised the swordsman. Tiny Ivan. Faen and Ivan had been part of the same gang when they were growing up, street rats together. While Faen had eventually left Denerim to pursue other 'interests' Ivan had stayed, upgrading from petty thievery to becoming a full on ruffian and cut-throat. Word was that Ivan had been recently hired by Caleb Losthill to be his man on the streets. Faen's sense of unease grew at the sight of him.

The fact that he was headed to Caleb's to assassinate him, while Caleb's men were out on a midnight stroll was far to suspicious to be a coincidence. It could only mean one thing, that someone had betrayed him. That was galling in the extreme, but hardly important at the moment. First he had to deal with Caleb's lackeys, then Caleb himself, then he could find out who had decided to knife him in the back. But how to circumvent Ivan? The first option was just to go back the way he had come, then travelling to one of the other two bridges, but chances were they would also be guarded. Second option would be to try and sneak past the men, but that ran the risk of being spotted by them while he was on the bridge, were he would be a sitting duck for the archer in the group, so that was out too. No, as Marco used to say 'when all the logical paths are closed to you, all you can do is take an illogical path'.

So, Faen did the most illogical thing he could think of. He walked into the light, straight for the Ivan's men.

Lucio - Fereldan Circle Tower

Three templars brought the Antivan mage into the tower, clamped in irons and without most of his equipment. Well, not exactly without. While two of them had taken up positions on either side of him, the third was carrying his sword and satchel. The Antivan, while in a terrible position, had a smile on his face, and walked calmly beside the templars, keeping his shoulders square and back straight. He'd tried to make conversation a few times before, but none were really interested in it, so now he just kept up the act of a man who knew of his innocence and was quite smug about it. Truly, he was smug, but for reasons other than that of his innocence. He just knew that eventually, he'd get out of this place, catch a boat to Rivain, and live in luxury and ease for the rest of his life.

The templars led him up to the office of the First Enchanter, where two old, grey men stood, presumably the First Enchanter and the Knight-Commander of the templars here. From what the Antivan could tell, the Commander wanted him executed, or at least imprisoned for a while until they could decide what to do. Loud, obnoxious, and generally just an irritating man, the Antivan decided about the Commander. The Enchanter, he wanted to just put the mage through the "harrowing," whatever that was. Calm, collected, and polite. He liked the old man already.

Since they'd yet to notice the intruders into he office, and the templars seemed loathe to interrupt, the Antivan cleared his throat loudly. He got a jab in the ribs for it, but he managed to keep his composure while under their gaze. He bowed his head to them, then smiled at the men. "Ah, it is good to finally get out of the cold," he said, his accent as thick as the First Enchanter's beard. "I believe it was me you were talking of just then, so I think it would only to be fair if I were allowed to speak for myself."

The Commander made his way towards him, shooing out the other templars, who slammed the door behind them. "You don't get a say in anything, you're a rouge mage, possibly even a blood mage!" he shouted, practically right in the Antivan's face. "You should have just been executed and been done with it."

The Antivan sniffed, then turned to the First Enchanter. "I think I would prefer to speak with you, my good sir." Another bow, this time much lower. "Lucio Peruzzi, Antivan mage and refugee." Before he could be questioned, he continued, "I was a sanctioned mage back in Antiva, until I ran into a bit of trouble with some unsavory types, so I fled south. My intent was to take a ship back to Antiva, and completely circle around them and hoped they died on the way." Mostly true, except for his intended location. "Though, now, I can't exactly do that now, since I have been wrongfully detained." Once more, he smiled, this time at the Commander.

However, the First Enchanter spoke before the Commander could shout his outrage or disbelief at him. "Young man, I do not know whether to believe you," he said, causing Lucio's face to drop. "However, I do not believe you to be a blood mage, for why would you have allowed yourself to have been captured in the first place?"

The Commander grumbled, but let it go. "Fine, Irving, maybe he isn't a blood mage, but I don't buy his story. He could have fled to the Chantry, or another Circle, but instead he ran for freedom. And what about a phylactery? There should be someone searching for him already."

"Greagoir, it does not matter now. It would be better for all of us if we merely put him through the Harrowing, made him a phylactery, and introduce him to the Circle. That is my say on the situation."

The Commander, Greagoir, Lucio assumed, looked furious, but dropped it. "Fine, Irving, but if anything comes out of this other than the perfect image of obedience, that mage won't see another morning. Are we clear?" He turned towards Lucio, glowering.

"Crystal," Lucio said, smiling smugly. The Commander stormed off while Lucio suppressed his urge to laugh in victory. Because it was only a temporary victory, and if he did escape this place, they'd have a way to track him down and either drag his sorry ass back or kill him on the spot. Either way, it wouldn't end pretty for anyone, because he wouldn't go down without a fight.

Irving placed a hand on his shoulder, and said, "Don't think you're free just yet, Peruzzi. You've still got a long way to go before you're off the hook."

Damn, that old man was ominous.

Myrn Atisha - Prior to leaving the Dalish

Sometimes to protect the ones you love, you must trap them against their will. At least, that's what Myrn thought of, and what she was now fighting against. She stood firmly against the Keeper, her mother, in front of the clan no less. This was not to be a private affair, despite the sensitivity of what she was about to do. "It is as I said, Keeper. I will be leaving the clan. I cannot thank you enough for all the time and effort you put into honing my skills and teaching me about our people. But I cannot simply live the rest of my life eking out an existence in the outskirts of civilization. You say that the Dalish are a proud people, but so far we have been living like wolves, protecting out homes but with no land to call out own, to be fierce but to never stand out ground. I know why we cannot, and I seek to rectify this. And I cannot ask for you or the clan to sacrifice themselves just to achieve it. And so I shall leave the clan, to build up relations with the non-Dalish." The Keeper than interrupted, speaking sternly but not raising her voice. Still it boomed and was heard over the entire clan, and sounded as though the forest itself was speaking. But Myrn stood unaffected and unmoved.

"And you would really think that others would care for us? The humans barely tolerate us. They hardly tolerate their own. You are naive to believe that they would even consider listening to the words of an elven mage, of all things. It is because of this that we must stay together, because we face the ignorance and hatred from every direction. As much of a boon that a change in ideals would be, it is not something that will happen anytime soon."

"And if I do not leave, it will never happen. A seed will never grow if it remains on the branch. A bird never flies if it does not leave the nest. A land for our people, peace between the humans and the elves, these things only happen when someone takes the actions to make it happen. We cannot allow fear and intimidation stop us. And I won't allow it to stop me. I am sorry, Keeper. But this is where I must leave." Myrn bowed her head towards the Keeper who showed no emotions on her face, but if one could look into her eyes, there was sorrow and grief, as though she was in mourning. Myrn herself put on a smiling facade, but her own heart held both fear and anticipation. She must do this, no matter how difficult it will be.

There was a long pause before the keeper spoke. "... Go than. You have my blessing. You know what path you have put yourself on. But know that I cannot guide you, for this is a path that has never been traveled before. I will not promise that there will be a place for you if you ever stray away from your path, but regardless I wish you luck. Dareth shiral... Myrn Atisha."

Myrn closed her eyes before bowing her head towards the keeper. "Dareth shiral, mother."

That was a few days ago. Myrn's clan had traveled north from the Kocari Wilds and into the Brecilian Forest, and were about to head south towards Orlais. It was the day before the clan would leave that Myrn chose to exile herself from the clan. She did so because she did not want to be tempted to return if for some reason the journey she goes onto becomes difficult for her. It would be all too easy for her to simply flee from the issue and return to her people. By leaving them, she would have to face her problems head on instead of running away. Of course, that's what she was doing right now, though for different reasons.

Though the forest was thick with brush and foliage, as a Dalish Myrn was no stranger to traversing it's obstacles. But neither were her pursuers. She had heard legends and tales of these creatures, but had not imagined that they would find her. She had not even know they truly existed in this age. But now she knew better. "Three chasing me right now. I can't out run them, so I need to slow them down. Or stop them all together." Myrn could hear the steps of the beasts move past her and she knew that they were going to entrap her. But what they had instead done was make it all the more simpler for Myrn to confront them. Before they revealed themselves Myrn reached a clear large enough that she could use her sword freely. She focused the magics within herself and created a Mind Blast, stunning the monsters around her. She than cast her Rock Armor on herself and drew her weapon.

"Halam sahlin!"

Myrn switched to a defensive stance as the three beasts emerged from the forest. Werewolves. Blighted Werewolves. Already savage beasts before, but now tainted by the Darkspawn they are even more monstrous and powerful, even if their lives are now measured by the days. This told Myrn many things. First the existence of the Werewolves themselves, and the looming threat of the Darkspawn. It was not entirely unexpected; one of Myrn's plans to improve relations with civilization was to join the Grey Wardens against the rising Darkspawn threat. While the humans might not believe in them, and while the dwarves are accustomed to them, Myrn and her clan knew of the coming Blight and hence their decision to leave Fereldan. For the Dalish the Blight was a crisis that they had no need to involve themselves in. For Myrn it was an opportunity to show that not all elves are leaving the rest of the world to die out.

But that was the grand scheme of things, and right now Myrn had more immediate concerns. One of the werewolves lunged at Myrn despite that she was obviously prepared for it, and was quickly impaled but not quite yet death. Though her blade pierced it's flesh, fur, and bones, it allowed itself to be gored so that it could reach Myrn and grab her. She expected such tactics however, and just as quickly as she put the blade into the beast, she pulled it out, turning on her heel around the beast before kicking in it's back and away from her. She quickly resumed her defensive stance once more as two of the beasts lunged at her. She was planning on impaling the werewolves like the other one, but the second attacker was a bit more clever, knocking the blade away before closing the distance. Myrn was only fast enough to put the hilt between her and the werewolve's fangs, just as another went around to tackle her to the ground.

The beast raised it's claws into the air to tear Myrn to shreds but she was quicker on the drawn. When she was knocked to the ground she shot her free hand upwards, not in a vain attempt to stop the blows, but to direct her Stonefist into the side of the beast's head. It came with such speed and force that it knocked the beast off of her and allowed Myrn to stand back up, just in time as the second beast once again resumed it's attack. The beast lunged again, but this time Myrn didn't bother to try to intercept it's attack with a slash or a stab. Instead she cast Force Field on herself, blocking the beast's attack. It came at her so quickly that it could not stop itself, and subsequently killed itself when it snapped it's own neck against her Force Field. She maintained the Force Field long enough that the last Werewolf's attack also did nothing to her, but despite the obvious ineffectiveness of it, the werewolf continued to claw and try to bite her. Within the safety of her Force Field Myrn readied herself. When she saw an opening she stabbed the beast, putting the blade all the way through it until it got to the hilt. Than Myrn pushed the monster off with a shoulder tackle, but not before ensure it's death by stabbing it underneath the chin right after if fell.

Myrn Atisha - Currently in Denerim

It was a shame that the werewolves were Blighted, as their pelts would have sold for a decent price. Still, after killing them she did find traces of their former victims in their stomachs and managed to recover some fairly decent quality jewelry and gems. She'll just have to make no mentions of how she got to them. Good thing too, because entering Denerim required Myrn to pay an entrance fee. She knew that it was not a true fee, merely the guardsmen abusing their power to get money out of the elf. But she complied and gave them the jewelry she had, knowing that she rather not hold onto those things for long given their origins. Within Denerim she was somewhat left alone. The guards didn't trouble her any further, but she doubt that they would come to her aid if something happened. She spoke to a few merchants with questions, but they seemed to want to be rid of her was quickly as possible. Most at least answered her questions, but one particular merchant simply threaten to call the guards if Myrn did not leave her. "What a bitch..."

Soon Myrn did find what she was looking for. The Grey Warden compound. She didn't go immediately however. She understood that the guards are likely going to turn her away at the gates, but at least she knew where it was at. She marked it down on her map as she headed towards her next destination, the Alienage. It was not her first visit and fortunately she had made friends in the past. She hopes that they could provide her shelter during her stay in the city, which hopefully won't be for too long. With a skip in her step Myrn hopped off to the Alienage.

Making the final adjustments to his armour, Alexander smiled, content in knowing he looked the part. Not to mention the fact he hadn't needed a squire to help put on the armour helped as well,they were just glorified man-servants, given away in the vain hope of raising a families name by deed, That reminded him of a certain someone. He looked himself over, the armour was fairly cheap to acquire only ten sovereigns for the armour it's self, a set of Heavy Chainmail made of Steel, and another five sovereigns for the work to make it look the part. That said, it was still by far over-priced, you could have kitted out an entire section of guards for that price, but that's what happens when you buy closed lips.

Eliza had left half an hour ago, she supposedly claimed she was going to get changed and make her way to the tourney, but at this point, Alexander just didn't know what to think.

Next came the swords, originally he had decided to use the Families ceremonial swords, but upon testing one in a quick spar with a dummy, the blade broke into a dozen pieces. Which meant they would very much not work. Instead he had to acquire his own instruments of battle. After sometime at the market the other day he decided upon two swords of fine make. Like many other swords in the land of Ferelden, it wasn't adorned with any decorations, or the like. It was simply a sword that would kill you just as good as any other swords, which was good enough for him.

With the two weapons sheathed on his back, he felt ready. But one thing was certain, he was scared, he was still human after all. Alexander was no stranger to fights, having gotten in a few too many of them as he grew up, and even trained under Ser Gwendal for a time. He just hadn't gotten into a fight in which someone actually had the opportunity to kill you. Granted, killing your opponent in the circle was frowned upon, but it didn't get you disqualified, or even a point reduction.

Sliding down the helmet, the type used by the Royal Guards of Denerim themselves, his facade was assured. No one would recognised him, and speaking through a full-metal helm had the side effect of slightly distorting one's voice. He was just about ready to leave the tent, when someone entered. In those few short moments, he thought everything had been rumbled, and had failed before it even began. Only for it to be his wife, Eliza, wearing some scarf around her head. "I thought you would be, 'one with the crowd's by now." he said to his wife.

"I would, but I wanted to give you this." she said, holding out a necklace. "My father gave it to me before I came here, said it allowed someone to 'not appear as they are'." the lack of a reaction from Alexander passed on his slight confusion. "In other words, my father gave me a glamour charm, it's will allow you to look more the part, without having to look the part." She placed the charm in his hands, and held on for a moment. "Be safe, husband."

"I will." With that said, she slowly walked out of the tend and disappeared into the crowds.

A few kilometers away from Denerim, 7 days ago
(Dragon's Peak)
Ten armored figures surrounded a solitary man wearing plain cloves, a staff held in one hand and a sword in the other. "I assure you gentleman, this staff is only for walking purposes, you see I had a fracture in my leg that didn't heal properly when I was a child and need this old thing to help me walk properly" He said as he twirled the staff in his hand, something which made the armored men tense considerably. Apart from that fact, it was a nice enough day, the sun was shinning brightly and it warmed his body but the reflection of the sun's rays on their armor bothered him.

"Lies, we know what you are....apostate!" Shouted who appeared to be the leader, and at that moment the sun shone on his breastplate to reveal the symbol of the Templar order "Do not fear him brothers, he is just but one mage and we are ten. He will soon be in Kinloch Hold to await his destiny for fleeing the Circle of Magi" Said the Templar Leader, which seemed to raise the morale of his templar brothers. For his part, Alexander sighted, noticing the sun was being covered by a particularly nasty looking cloud "You know what else I am, Templar?" Said the mage as he sighted, red cracks appearing on his skin as he began to speak "I am also what your order has affectionately labeled as maleficarum." He said, his eyes shining with a crimson glow, ash e pointed to one of the Templars, who began to convulse and soon enough screamed in rage as he began attacking his fellow members of the order.

Alexander was too distracted to notice the templar leader who charged at him, slashing him in the shoulder "Die, foul maleficarum" He said as Alexander parried his attack clumsily with his sword "I cannot loose, for Andraste and the Maker are with me" He shouted as he tried to silence him, something that Alexander barely managed to avoid. He hastily threw a Stonefist at the templar, knocking him down but leaving him wide open to the attack of another templar who slashed him at the thigh.

He looked at his puppet, who was fighting against his brothers but had not much time left and took all the blood that remained on his body to re-invigorate himself. "Now brothers, he has lost his puppet" Said the templar leader as he charged at him, slashing at him again. Alexander dodged the attack and made a brief body count, only five templars remained; he dodged another attack and then raised the corpse of one of the fallen templar warriors but this made him fall down into one knee, he had been using too much blood. He sent a fire ball at one of the templar's, using this time his reserves of mana instead of his own blood, and hitting him in the face, which was quickly followed by his undead servant stabbing him in the throat. HE recalled one of the rituals his old master had taught him, one to absorb the life essence of the fallen foes and turn it into mana, and used it, feeling the energy invigorating him considerably. HE looked at the enemies, only two templars remained -one of them the leader- and they were finishing off his undead servant. They turned to attack him and he tried to cast a Walking Bomb on the weaker one, but was silenced once more; he dodged another attack and this time was successful in casting the bomb, which soon entered into effect and showered him and the templar leader with the blood and entrails of his fallen comrade.

Soon enough the templar leader tackled him, fury on his eyes "You just cost me nine good men, good friends of mine maleficarum" He said, a mixture of rage and sadness on his voice "If you hadn't come after me, they'd all be alive" Spatted Alexander, blood trickling from his mouth, as he struggled against the templar leader who punched him quite hardly. However, in that moment Alexander remembered the sword he had in his scabbard and throwing a small fireball at the templar's face, which also burned him, to distract him he quickly unsheathed his sword and stabbed the remaining templar in the throat "May the bloody Maker receive you at his side, you idiot" He said as he spat blood on the templar's helmet and then left after searching hte pockets of the tempalr parrty for any money they had.

Denerim, present day
Alexander was meditating, it was obvious the templars had heard news of him based on his little encounter with them in the Dragon's Peak mountain but so far it was obvious that they hadn't tracked him back to Denerim or at least they hadn't. By now, his wounds had healed thanks to a few poultices he had bought -courtesy of the money looted from the dead templars- thanks to a contact he had made in the Mage's Collective that resided near the Denerim markets. He began to weight down his options, he hated running constantly and he would have been content to be able to have a quiet life in Denerim but that idea seemed to have it's days counted, the other option was the Grey Warden's but how to approach them with his offer was in his mind; after all he couldn't walk there an announce himself as an apostate and blood mage, they'd most likely tell the Chantry and he'd be then executed.

He decided to head out for their compound and he was exiting his house when something caught his attention, an elf with Dalish tattoos "What's she doing here?" HE wondered, deciding to follow her as stealthily as he could, and soon enough found himself next to the Warden's Compound. However, he quickly hid when he noticed that she was turning away, He approached the gate's of the compound "Ahh, the guards must have deterred her" He mused to himself before returning to his house "She'll probably return latter, maybe when there are no guard" He said to himself as he returned his house, and once he was inside decided to scout the building a few times later in the day until she could catch at what time she was heading there; after all, he might have more luck if he was with someone else who was also considered an unwelcome person in human society.

Krios
(Warden Compound, Denerim)

“And he gave no indication as to how long he would be gone nor where he was going?” asked Krios as he mulled over the records that Mayson had placed in front of him. He reached out for a cup of diluted wine as his friend responded.

“Duncan simply said that he had some personal business to attend to; something about an old friend. He did say that he may return with some recruits however – something which we desperately need.” Mayson put extra emphasis on those last words and tapped his index finger on the list of wardens as he did so. There was only ten names on the list of current Ferelden wardens, a laughable amount when compared to the hundreds of Wardens that could be found in other countries. There was two reasons for this: Firstly, the wardens had only been allowed back in Ferelden in recent years and so it would naturally take time to settle and grow; and Secondly (and more importantly), many of the wardens had come from Orlais and so their loyalty and allegiance was constantly questioned. Krios drew his attention to the list as directed and sighed as he took note of each member’s status:

Duncan (Warden Commander): Currently away on personal business.

Patrick (Second in Command): With Alicia and Barrett in the Deep Roads investigating the City of the Dead. He will not be returning with them as he plans to take the long walk.

Mayson: Stewarding the Denerim Compound.

Krios: Maintaining a presence in the Frostback mountains.

Timond: Currently aiding the Blackstone Irregulars with a contract. Is continuing to improve relations and secure sponsorship and security.

Alicia: Currently in the Deep Roads.

Barret: Currently in the Deep Roads.

Curtis: Currently with Sarah investigating strange reports on the south-eastern coast. Reports range from mysterious ships to darkspawn sightings.

Sarah: Currently with Curtis on the south-eastern coast.

Pycell: Still no signs of the traitor. Possible sighting in Amaranthine.

“Something big is happening with the Darkspawn and yet as things currently stand me and you appear to be on our own? At least until the others start trickling back in from their awkwardly timed assignments?” Krios tiredly rubbed his face before taking a bigger gulp of wine. It was hard to tell whether or not he looked more annoyed or anxious about the situation.

“And you definitely felt a large presence when you were in the south? It couldn’t have just been an emissary?” Mayson had asked Krios the question a few times now, each time hoping that his friend would suddenly realise that he was mistaken.

“No emissary I’ve ever come across has given off such a strong presence. And it felt like there was more darkspawn following it than there should have been. Given the increased darkspawn activity it cannot be a coincidence. But as you said, Duncan is probably the only person who could tell us whether or not it sounds like the Architect; no other living warden has seen him as far as I know.” Krios had felt the presence of something larger a day or two before the darkspawn begun seeping out of the mountains. He wasn’t sure what it was but it appeared to be moving North. The oldest of the Ferelden wardens (Patrick, Mayson, Krios and Timond) had been told about the Architect by Duncan, although he never really gave too much details of his story away.

“But that doesn’t mean we should just mope around until everyone gets back!” Mayson said in a suddenly cheerful tone as he rose to his feet. There was something about his blue-ish grey eyes that was surprisingly warm and made you feel comfortable, but it was certainly not the colour. “We are in desperate need of recruits, funding, weapons and well… just about everything. Timond has managed to get us some resources from the Blackstone Irregulars and that’s why their boys are on the doors, but it’s hardly enough to sustain ourselves. King Calain is an avid fan of the Wardens and gives us some help but most of his counsel advices against it and unfortunately he complies. You need to get out there and bring in some capable hands and get us some more support!” Mayson boomed whilst he reached over and gave Krios a light punch on the shoulder. He tried to ignore his friends raised eyebrow and begun refilling both their cups.

“Why me? I’ve no authority to recruit people. And I’m surely the last person you want to send out to make friends; I stick out like a Qunnari in a whore house.”

“Because me and you are the only ones here and I certainly can’t do it. I’m sure Duncan will have no quarrels with you recruiting, especially given the circumstances.” Mayson paused for a moment whilst he withdrew a key from his robe, “And given that our dear brother Patrick will not be coming back, you might as well make use of his room.”

The night before Krios arrives in Denerim

Ivan and his men were clearly arguing as Faen approached them, arms flailing wildly as each man spoke his piece, which was promptly ignored by the next. This could have gone on all night, had the assassin's sudden appearance sent them all into a gradual, heavy silence. The fact the mere sight of him had hushed their discussions, and that their fingers crept towards their belted weapons and their eyes twitched with nervous energy told Faen that he was more than likely they cause of their squabble.

"Andraste's tits, that's him. . . " muttered one of the cut-throats, a subtle edge to his voice, an edge Faen recognised all to well. It was the outcome of when a man repressed fierce emotions, an audible shake, a precursor to violence. But the assassin wasn't here to fight, not yet at least, so he was careful. He kept his pace slow an measured, not too fast but not to slow either. His hands stayed out of sight, hidden within the long folds of his dark cloak, while his crossbow, wings folded in on itself, sat unloaded and holstered at his waist. His calm demeanour must have had a likewise calming effect on Ivan, as he slowly waved down his men, ordering them to settle themselves. Faen was close now to them now, so Ivan spoke up.

"Ho there, old friend. Odd time of night to be out." Tiny Ivan was a giant of a man, standing a full head taller than Faen, with the kind of shoulders a bull would be jealous of and hands that looked like they could batter a troll into submission if he took a mind to it. His big face was round and open, and he wore a wide smile, one that didn't quite make it to his eyes. No, his eyes were the only thing wrong with his otherwise friendly visage. Blue, cold and empty, they were utterly devoid of emotion.

"Late perhaps, but not odd if you have a reason to be out. Do you have a reason to be out Ivan?" Faen's reply was sharp, leaving little room for friendly chatter. Ivan's eyes narrowed slightly, but otherwise his mask of geniality did not slip.

"No preamble eh? I always liked that about you Faen. I reckon you already know I get my pay from Caleb Losthill know. Now, Caleb hears rumours. Rumours that the merchants are starting to feel a bit hard done by."

"Merchants always feel hard done by." Faen interjected breezily, with a casual wave of his hand.

"This times different thought." Ivan continued "This time their mad enough to do something stupid. Stupid like hire an assassin. Ye wouldn't know anything about that, would ye Faen?" There was a significant pause, the silence so thick with tension you could have cut it with a knife. True, if you drew a knife in this company you were liable to catch a faceful of axe blade, but the metaphor still stood. The assassin was forced to pick his words carefully.

"Are you asking me if I've been hired by the Denerim merchants to kill Caleb Losthill? You know I don't work like that Ivan. Complete discretion towards my employers, even hypothetical ones." The big man sighed at that answer, his hand going towards his belt. Faen stiffened, thinking a fight was about to break out, and even he would be hard pressed to beat seven men in a straight fight. His worry was unfounded for the moment though as Ivan instead produced a large coin purse, and offered it to the assassin. Faen accepted it without a word, surprised at how heavy it was.

"Let me change tact." Ivan said as Faen opened the pouch. "One of the merchants had a change of heart, I wont say who, but he betrayed you and his comrades. Caleb knows you've been hired to kill him, and he knows who did it. However he knows it isn't personal for you, and he's willing to make a deal. In that pouch is twenty five sovereigns, a gift if you agree to drop the contract against him. He then asks you to turn on your current employers, and is willing to pay double your standard fee per head." The assassin, who had been absently counting the coins in the pouch, couldn't help but arch a brow at Ivan's offer. The amount Caleb was offering was staggering, a Teyrn's ransom in coin. Images of just what he could do with all that coin flashed through his mind. He could travel to Orlais, beg his pardons of the empress and live amongst the bright and the beautiful once more. He could take to Rivain, and buy himself estates in the sun. Hell, with that kind of money he could pay the Crows to stop hunting him. Caleb's men began to relax, assured the assassin would take the offer.

"It is a good deal." Faen finally said, the last of the tension melting away from the cut-throats. Ivan laughed a good hearty chuckle. One man in the rear breathed a sigh of relief, as none in attendance had relished the thought of fighting Faen the bastard, there was a reason he warranted such a high price amongst prospective employers.

Therefore it was even more of a surprise when Faen's hand swung out in a wide arc, coins flying from the open pouch in a wide spray, grunts and cries sounding in the night as cold, hard, gold struck men in unprotected faces, necks and hands. One cut-throat was struck in the eye, blood erupting as the coin burst his eye. The assassin's cloak flickered slightly, Mother's Kiss emerging from the cloth like a player stepping past the stage curtains, all of her savage beauty displayed in the night air for the briefest of seconds before she danced forward to lance into Tiny Ivan's belly, the big man making a pig like squeal as the dull metal pierced his flesh. Faen wrenched the blade right then left, warm blood squirting from the wound and spattering his fist and wrist, before he pivoted on his feet and shoulder barged Ivan, the wounded man staggering backwards unsteadily as Mother's Kiss slid easily from the gaping hole in his torso. The cut-throats behind him, still off balance after Faen's sudden attack, were in no position to brace the big mans weight, and could do little but curse as they were all pitched from their feet under Ivan's collapsing bulk. Without missing a beat the assassin darted forward, vaulting Ivan and the men trapped underneath him like a professional tumbler, his free hand flicking a throwing knife forwards as he hit solid ground once more. The blade flew through the darkness to punch into Ivan's archer's throat, the man falling to the ground making a wet gurgling noise. The assassin hadn't even stopped to watch the throw, instead sprinting across the bridge.

All in all the attack had lasted the best of five seconds, left the archer dead, Ivan dying, and one man crippled, and had been so sudden and unexpected that the rest of Losthill's men were still struggling to make sense of it as Faen's pounding footsteps began to fade into the night. Ivan tried to order his men after the assassin, but the only sound he could make was a pained scream. The gang finally managed to turn and pursue Faen, but by then he was already fading into the shadows on the South side of Denerim.

Caleb's deal had been a good one, but even Faen had some semblance of honour, and once he had taken a job he would see it through to the end. One way or another Caleb Losthill would die that night.

Myrn Atisha - Denerim's Alienage

It sadden Myrn to see the elves live in such a sorry state. The stench of rotted garbage wafted through the air, covered only by the scent of smoke as the elves did what they could to dispose of it. Everyone lived in cramp apartments, many who are expected to be able to house all their family and belongings in a single room. Some might be fortunate to either have large rooms or very little baggage. Worse was that it's not as though the elves had much other options; they wanted to expand the Alienage for the new tenants, but hardly ever would the human lords think to even allow such a thing. And if the living quality wasn't bad enough, there was the work. Others might dislike the elves complaints about work, citing that at least they had jobs, but that doesn't amount to much when a beggar could make more a week than an elf who works twenty hours a day. It was not an exaggeration, just an unfortunately apt comparison. And the last of the transgressions that Myrn couldn't bare to think of was the crime rate. Truth be told many elves have to resort to stealing and robbing just to pay rent. While the community does it's best to help one another, it isn't always enough. Many of the gangs in Denerium had elves in it, but never as anything more than grunts or scapegoats. And a gang of elves were often seen worse than a gang of humans. Or at least, the guards certainly won't be as merciful when they come across one. Worse still is that some of these elven gangs don't even do what they do for their people. Some might have been made to protect the Alienage, but more often than not they see their fellow elves as other potential targets for their stealing. A bad target, but also an easy one.

It was the cruel and honest truth about the Alienage. Sure at some times days would not be so bad, but generally the Alienage is not a pleasant place. And for the elves it's the only place they have to call home. Myrn arrived to a small family apartment building to find her friend Rena. Rena worked as a servant for a tolerable human noble and brings the most money to her family next to her father, who enlisted with the Blackstone Irregulars. More importantly, Rena has dabbled into the back alley trade of information brokering, and uses her lowly position as a servant to not only listen in on the various nobles, but to infiltrate their homes and houses unnoticed and map out routes and location of their homes. Who uses this information doesn't matter to her; as long as they pay their money they get to know what she knew. Myrn came to her home hoping to pay back her dept to her for helping Myrn out last time her clan passed by near Denerim. While the full story is a tale for another time, Myrn would never forget how quickly Rena managed to get her that purple nug.

When the two elves finally was face to face, they shared a brief embrace. Words were exchanged about one another lives and what they've done recently. They had their chat over a few cups of water, and after all the formality had finally been settled, Rena was quick to get to business. She told Myrn of a few things happening around the Alienage that Rena wants something to be done about. First was news of a lost child. The mother, a friend of Rena, had an argument with her husband about stealing supplies off the docks. It wasn't the first time and she constantly berates her man about risking himself and his family just for a bag of grains, which surely has made the child reach her limits. The mother and father are still warring with each other, but both want their child back. Between the arguments they've tried and tried to search for her to no anvil. Another thing happening in the Alienage was about some of the beggars that's been loitering the Alienage. While the elves have no real authority to expel them, they've formed up into a small gang and have been harassing the elves for what little money and possessions they have. So far no violence has occurred, but it was only a matter of time before the beggars got bold or for someone to stop tolerating their foolishness. Another job Rena wants done involved actual thieves. She heard from her own channel in the various Denerim gangs that some lowlives who are based in the downtown area had moved into the Alienage one night and stole something from one of the inhabitants. Normally such robberies were overlooked since not much of value is normally taken, but the victim was the Alienage's own herbalist, and what was stolen was a family heirloom. It's been bothering the herbalist constantly, affecting his ability to work. And lastly, there was one of the more harrowing job. A few days ago the Alienage took in an elvish mage who had fled the Circle. While most of the elves were Chantry believing people, they stilled housed and protected the elf, though they made it clear that they were only turning a blind eye to the runaway mage for a short while. Well they didn't need to worry about him staying for long, because that night he killed the family housing him with Blood magic. He has since left the Alienage, but not only does the community want revenge, but they also want to get rid of the threat. However another runaway mage, one who's more upstanding, wants to minimize outside involvement as much as possible. If word got around that there was a blood mage in the Alienage, the entire Templar Order was going to go through and purge the place for any and all mages, regardless of who they think is good, evil, or even a mage. To that end, Rena wanted Myrn to find the Blood Mage as soon as possible, however the choice of what jobs she does in what order is up to her.

After spending a short while longer talking to Rena about the jobs, Myrn left the house for her first quest. She was going to look for the child first. From what Rena told her, the child has been gone for two days. With everything going on Rena thought the worse, but Myrn held out the hope that the child would be clever enough to stay safe. Still Myrn would go find her, for her family's sake. The first place Myrn went to was to the child's home. The father was out but the mother was sitting in on a seat patching up some clothes. When Myrn entered the woman was initially fearful, but after Myrn told the woman her reasons for being there she settled down and looked sadden. She told Myrn about how much they've been struggling since the woman had lost her job as a seamstress. Her husband has been taking more and more hours at the docks, and the stress was building up on his body. He'd come home tired and exhausted, often covered in cuts and bruises or even injured. And when it still wasn't enough to put food on the table, he started to steal things from the packages he handled. So far he hasn't gotten caught, but when he told his wife where he got them, they've had arguments about it. The wife insists that despite how rough they're having it, they shouldn't resort to criminal acts just to support one another. It only takes one mistake to lose everything. After the woman told her side of the story, Myrn asked her a few questions about the daughter. She was only nine years old, but had a sort of perspective and wisdom of something three times her age. A quite and clever girl, she was quickly able to pick up her mother's ability sewing and before she was even seven was able to mend her own cloths and dolls. Because of how often their father had to work the girl spent most of her time with her daughter, though she did mention that the girl was friends with other children in the Alienage. When Myrn asked if she knew the children, the woman unfortunately did not know. She knew their parents and she knew they were good people, but she never really spend any time with them even after she lost her job.

After leaving the mother's home Myrn went to go find where the children congregate. Since most businesses don't allow parents to bring their children, someone in the Alienage would be the designated babysitter. Though older children likely wandered around the Alienage or even the city on their own. Fortunately Myrn found a group of children soon enough. A mixed group of boys and girls playing some game with rocks and strings. Myrn approached them and the biggest of the children looked at her. The others stood up as well, but they seemed to be behind the biggest of the child, as though expecting Myrn to yell or try to harm them. She put on her friendliest smile and asked the larger child if he knew the girl who had ran away from her home. The boy feigned ignorance badly, so Myrn decided to work her charm on him. She asked again, mentioning how she wants to make sure the girl is safe. One of the children asked if she was a warrior, noting the large sword on her back. Myrn smiled and told them that she was actually a mage. To prove this, she used a fairly weak Stonefist spell to juggle rocks without even touching them. This amused the children. Once she was finished, they were a bit more willing to speak. One of the children was a personal friend of the missing girl, and she did see her leave the Alienage yesterday. She also mentioned that the girl had a "Boyfriend", a human child, who lives at the Market Place. Myrn was rather surprised at the information, but she thanked the children for what they knew. Promising to come back to show them more tricks, Myrn headed towards the Marketplace.

Myrn Atisha - Market Place

The aside from that the boy lived in the market place, they didn't know what his family did. They weren't even sure if they were merchants. The only hint she could get from the children about the boy was that when the missing girl came back from visiting him, she always had some sweet fruit pastries. So Myrn looked for bakeries, specifically, ones that can create sweet fruit pastries. She wasn't sure if the boy was the son of a baker or just had a sweet tooth, but surely someone would have seen a human boy come into their shops with an elvish girl. Turned out a lot of the bakeries in the Denerim didn't specialize in making fruit pastries. The problem was that both fruit and sweetener was two luxuries most bakeries can't turn into profit. It's not that they can't make sweet fruit pastries, but they have to be special ordered and it could take a few days to get the ingredients. And like when Myrn tried to talk to the merchants before, most of them wanted her out as soon as possible. While no one threaten to call the guards on her, no one told her anything about seeing a little elf girl. When Myrn was thinking about staking out the various bakeries to hopefully see the girl, one of the workers called out to her. He was a big human, at least two heads taller than Myrn with arms that could wrestle a bear. Myrn thought the man was going to do something stupid when he mentioned that he knows of a shop that specialized in sweet bread. He wasn't sure if they made sweet fruit bread, but he did know that they could make them on request. Myrn was delightfully surprised at how well mannered this large man was. He left after purchasing a basket of bread loafs as Myrn went to go look for that special bakery.

Myrn Atisha - Palace District

Her search took her out of the Market Place and into the Palace District. Here Myrn had to be very careful. She's already heard the local gossip questioning why she was there, and already she's been accused of being a criminal even though all she's done so far was show up. The guards still ignored her but the locals didn't, and now Myrn would have to be very careful with how she chooses her words. Eventually she found the Bakery, but she didn't enter. She saw a few elves getting chased out for "Loitering" and Myrn knew that going in was not going to help her. Still she couldn't wait around the bakery less someone call the guards on her, so Myrn ducked into an alley and formulated a plan.

Finding a place to hide her sword Myrn stole some laundry being hung to dry and dressed herself like a servant. As demeaning as it was, the only way Myrn could stick around without getting the guards on her was to look like she was suppose to be there. And for her that means looking like she was a servant there. Taking a broom from a storefront, Myrn began to sweep up and down the side of the road, patrolling in front of the shop. Her disguise was working so far; people stopped talking about her and went on with their lives, thinking nothing about the lowly street cleaner elf. She kept up the charade for some time before she saw her mark; the girl. She could tell it was the missing elf because of her dress and her doll; skillfully stitched despite the low quality material. And she was trailing behind a human boy. Fair skinned with red hair as bright as a bonfire. He held himself with an air of arrogance unsurprisingly common in upper-class children. The two entered the shop the girl seemingly there on behalf of the boy, and soon the two left with a large loaf of bread. From the smell, it was made with apple and cinnamon. "Sweet Fruit Bread...

Myrn went back to the alley and ditched her disguise. She got her sword back and began to follow the two children until they stopped at a gazebo of sorts. Despite the boy's previous air of arrogance, now that he was not among the public eye his true colors showed. He took out a small knife, cutting bits of the bread for both him and the elf girl. The two seemed to enjoy both their snack and each others company, even if they didn't have much to talk about. The girl seemed relaxed, happy even, and didn't seem to have befriended the boy out of desperation. The two were friends, something that Myrn admired. Unfortunately, the girl had to come back to her family. Soon Myrn approached the two and made her presence known. The two look at her, the boy with a hint of anger, the girl with a hint of fear. The boy gripped his knife tightly, as though he was expected that he may need to use it. While Myrn had no doubts she could defeat the child, she wasn't trying to do this by force. Myrn called the girl's name and told her plainly that she needed to come back home. The girl was quiet and the boy spoke for her. The girl was sad that her family had to be so poor and constantly making bad decisions.

The boy told the girl's side of the story, of what she saw during the fight these past few days. Her mother, the seamstress, was quite the alcoholic. The reason she was fired was because she came to work drunk again, and the owner had enough of her mother's inability to stay sober for work. Her father was never home and when he was, all he had was bad new. He didn't make any money, he got mugged, he's hurt, he's tired of his wife yelling at him, he's lonely. Her family was always struggling, and not for entirely unreasonable causes. When her family wasn't home or, after her mother was fired, her mother was resting a hangover, the girl would explore the city. She met the boy at the Market Place when the boy got into a fight with some local youths. They were fighting because the boy was defending a elf beggar from the gang of bullies, who were stealing his change and throwing trash at him. Being that the boy was narrating it he claimed he won, but also noted that he tore his shirt, which his mother would have yelled at him for. That's when the girl showed up and offered to fix it for him, and did such an excellent job that his mother never even noticed. Since than the two have been keeping contact together in secret, pretending to be the arrogant noble boy with his servant elf girl. He said that when he got older he would marry the girl, and he didn't care what his family thought about elves. His sense of innocent nobility was admirable, and something that Myrn could take advantage of.

After the boy was finished talking Myrn countered that while it is very heroic of him to take care of the girl, she still has a family too. A family that needs her. Her parents are very sad now that she's gone, and without her they don't know what to do anymore. This made the girl start to cry and the boy called Myrn out for trying to guilt trip them into coming home. He was certainly perspective, but Myrn continued. She also said that the boy is very brave and kind, and mentioned that while the girl needs to go back to her home, that doesn't mean they should end their relationship. If anything, this friendship would be exactly what the girl's family needed. Myrn asked the boy if his family had a seamstress. He knew the world, but he told her that when he messes up his clothes, his mother would just buy him a new one and throw away the old one. Myrn convinced the boy that he should talk to his mother about hiring the missing girl's mom to fix his cloths, as well as other servant things she can do. The boy took some time to think about this and admitted that he wasn't sure if he could do something like that. Myrn continued to coax him, giving him words of encouragement about how much good he's already done for the girl, and how much more he can do for her. Myrn told them a story she made up about a how a normal knight became a king because he used his power and influence for good. Myrn was no bard, but she was only trying to impress children. Eventually the boy relented, and convinced the girl that she needed to go see her parents. To ensure that things worked out, the boy offered to take her there.

Myrn Atisha - Denerim's Alienage

Myrn, the human boy, and the missing girl went back to the Alienage. Just as the husband returned home, the Myrn arrived with the girl. The family came into one tearful embrace, but it wasn't over from there. The boy stepped forward, much to the shock of the parents, and started yelling at them about how badly they've been at parents. The mother and father were both confused and angry, and before they did anything they would regret Myrn stepped in to mediate the issue. She told them how the boy could get a job back for the mother, one that would allow the husband to work less hours. The boy confirmed what Myrn was saying, mentioning that his family were looking to get new servants since they had just added a new building to their estate. He also mentioned that he was doing this for the girl; so if the family doesn't shape up, he'll take her away. Rather ballsy, but it seemed to have sunk in with the parents. The mother wanted to know how soon she could get to work, and the boy said that when he returns home he'll talk to his bother (Who's in charge of hiring the new workers) who should send someone over. If things work out, they could even move out of the Alienage and into the servant's quarters at his family's estate. The family couldn't have been more happy with how things turned out, and their only regrets right now was that they had nothing to give to Myrn for what she's done. Trying to be humble, Myrn claimed that all she did was bring back their daughter.

Myrn left the family's home to escort the boy back to his estate when the girl came out. The first thing she did was hug the boy and gave him a kiss on the cheek, which Myrn found adorable, and handed Myrn an amulet. A ribbon of lyrium has been worked into the bronze, making odd patterns in the metal. The girl said that she found it one day while she was exploring the city, and wanted to give to Myrn for all she's done. She thanked the little girl for being generous, and told her kind words as they parted. As Myrn and the boy walked back towards the Palace district, Myrn mentioned that the boy found a good girl. He rebuked saying that he was just lucky that she found him first.

Hinterlands, Southmere

Town Between Lothering and Redcliffe Village

The sun was low in the cloud heavy skies above, the evening air bringing a light and refreshing breeze with it. The light was already fast fading by Kathleen Red Eagle approached the gate entrance of Rossleigh. The only sentry posted there was leaning against one end of the gate, and paid the newcomer little heed, waving her in with a nod. Passing the high gate entrance Kathleen was not surprised to see the lack of people about, judging by the time of day, most townsfolk of the frontier settlements had learned to be well within doors before sunset. Kathleen's heightened senses born of years of living in the wilds of Korcari picked up the activity on the guard towers well enough, however. No doubt the sight of a stranger coming from the south was cause for attention if not alarm. Of course unlike the gate guard, they wouldn’t have seen the crest of the Ash Warriors on her breastplate hidden under her large fur cloak.

Still no one molested her as she made her way to the small tavern that served as the towns only drinking hole. With any luck she might obtain a room, a first in too long a time. The building was rather small, hardly worth calling a tavern truly, singly story and with round small windows. The door was so small, or rather Kathleen so tall, she was forced to stoop down to enter proper. The first thing that struck Kathleen as the door shut behind her was the smell. The place stank of alcohol, mead, vomit, and piss. The second was the lack of folks, and those who were present were mostly townsfolk themselves. The Hinterlands were hardly well travelled, but still one would expect quit a few travellers, either a dwaven caravan passing through, for there were few good routes to Denerim, other human merchants or even hunters.

The place held one table with three men gathered close together engaged in some heated debate. Another lone patron seated on a stool by himself at the main bar. The room quieted a bit at Kathleen's entrance, but soon all returned to their drinks quick enough. Kathleen slowly made her way to the bar and seated herself on a far end stool. The barkeep scowled his face at her approach before spitting to one side and saying. “Ye, can leave de way you came, I don't serve Chasin- Oh! Pardon me madam, I didn't see your crest.” He bowed his head slightly in way of apology.

Kathleen merely grunted and took her seat, having by now become used to many an ignorant Fereldan in her time outside the Wilds. She nodded toward a keg of ale and the bartender smiled before tapping off a glass for her. As he set it down in front of her he asked. “So, what's an Ash Warrior doing out here in this far flung end of the kingdom?”

“Hunting,” came Kathleen's curt reply.

“Oh? What ever for? Ain't many deer in these here parts.” the inner keeper asked politely.

Kathleen drained most of her glass in one swig. “Bandits.”

“Ah, then you must be tracking those cutthroats who've been causing a ruckus these past few months. About time they got what was coming to them. I hear tell they've been rounding up hounds and forcing them to fight in pits. Animals the lot of them to do that to innocent dogs.” The innkeeper spat again. It seemed a habit of his. “Tell you what, I'll give you free room and board for a one night, least I can do for an Ash Warrior- not to mention my earlier rudeness.”

Kathleen offered him a smile. “That would be kind of you.”

She would need the rest and time to plan for tomorrow. Though she wouldn't know just how much yet...

Alexander held his blades strong against his opponents strength, four blades in total locked together as the two men attempted to best one another. Alex, in the guise of Ser Richard, of Redcliffe had already bested two previous men in the ring, neither one of them really a challenge. Everyone who lasted at least one fight in the arena was awarded ten silver, this of course drew many people to the fights simply to put meals on the table for the nest few days. But this guy, he was no mere farmer's boy, he was a tried and tested warrior who was not willing to give up just yet.

Reaching out with his foot, Alex pushed into the warriors chest, sending the man back and more importantly breaking the lock between their blades. Like the barbarian he was, the warrior immediately charged straight back at Alexander, but an all too easy jump out of the way, sent the man crashing into the side-barriers. Taking this chance to secure his victory, Alex walked over to the man, and sliced his blade only his arm. Thus securing his third victory of the day. It was extremely easy for to secure a quick win in these fights, since all that was required for victory was drawing blood. Hell, if you wanted to you could just just punch your opponent in the opening move, and if it drew blood, you've won.

However, this fight had shown him that this was by no means going to be as easy as he thought it would be. But the announcer shouting out his victory reassured his confidence, he wasn't here to win. He was here to prove himself. Granted, that could be considered a contradiction, but he had his own ideas for how it made sense.

These fights weren't anything special, at any one time there was at least four fights going on at one time. The winners of each match, being bumped up the leader board, until there was no one else to fight, but the winners. They would fight until only eight men remained, they would then fight two at time under the watchful eye of the ruling nobles until only two remain, who would of course go into the finale.

With his third opponent defeated, Alex tuck a small break to catch his breath, make sure he had something to drink and before he knew it, he was back into the fight

Location: Small town between the Hinterlands and Southmere

"What!?"

Sereda did not believe what she was being told. She joined up with the small caravan group at the college, offering her skills and services, and before they even managed to reach Lothering she was being fired. Not for bad performance, but because the caravan could not afford her services. It irked her in many ways: for one thing, she had already been with this caravan for a whole month now, waiting for that pay they promised. A second reason was because she had no idea where she was, or what she could do in this village. Sereda tried to convince the merchants to scrap together the money somehow, but paying for Sereda's help would cut into their profit. In the end, there was little they could do and they left Sereda behind.

It had been a good three years since Sereda had been exiled from Orzammar. Within those three years she's been able to adapt to the surface, and made a bit of a fortune and reputation for herself. But it seemed to be working against her, since now that she charges more money based on how renowned she was, there was less caravans who could afford her service. And she dared not cut herself short; if she started to charge less than what her services were worth, than people would start taking her with cheap, low paying jobs and making her miss on the big scores. She wanted something in the middle, but it seemed that all she could get was either jobs not worth the time, or jobs that no one trusted her to do. And because of it, she was, for now, out of a job.

Sereda found herself in a tavern in a little settlement called Rossleigh. Most were settlers looking to edge into the Kocari Wilds, and she had been approached to work with some blacksmiths thanks to her knowledge with metals. But when it came to talking pay, all they had were empty promises and bits of coin. She had to relent and take a few jobs when her own casual spending money was dwindling down, waiting for a high-class caravan to come by for her to join up with. Sereda was actually saving some money to fund a trip to Denerim, where she was certain she could find jobs there. But the worse thing that Sereda to deal with now was boredom. Most of the settlers and workers complained about things like wolves or work, but the talk of anything more dangerous was rare. Some may speak about bandits, but they lacked any information on them as far as Sereda heard. She certainly wouldn't mind crushing some brigand skulls.

The Ancestors must have been watching over Sereda that day however, when a large figure entered the tavern. Her style of dress suggested that she was Chasin, and the dwarf had very few pleasant meetings with them. She watched from her lonely seat as the large woman walked up to the barkeep, eavesdropping on their conversation. Turned out that the giant was actually and Ask Warrior, which brought a little bit of comfort to the dwarf. When asked what brought her to Rossleigh, the Ash Warrior said she was hunting bandits. Turned out the barkeep knew something of some troublemakers in the area taking the wolves and canines and making them fight for their own amusement. "Despicable!"

Not one to let an opportunity escape her Sereda approached the much larger woman. Standing next to her, the ash warrior was at least twice Sereda's height, and despite the dwarf wearing all her armor, the Ash Warrior seemed to be bulkier. If you couldn't see her face, you might have even mistaken the Ash Warrior to be a Qunari. A male Qunari. Despite the vast size difference Sereda showed no fear or hesitation as she strike a conversation with the man-hunter. "Hey, you hunting bandits? Rather dangerous to do alone. I happen to be something akin to a mercenary for hire, and for someone like you, I can charge a fair deal."

Lucio - Fereldan Circle Tower

The next few days were spent adjusting to life in the Circle. A templar, a young man named Cullen, was assigned to guard him most hours of the day. He was kind enough, but seemed to always be on edge around Lucio. It made the Antivan grin any time he jumped, which he did any time Lucio acted like he was going to cast a spell. Probably a dangerous thing to do, since Greagoir was convinced he was a threat and the rest of the templars believed anything he said like it was the sacred words of Andraste herself. One of the things that bothered Lucio about this place. Greagoir's word was law, and other than the First Enchanter and a few others, no one questioned it.

While he was busy reading one of the many, many tomes on the School of Creation, Greagoir burst into his room, hastily followed by Cullen and another templar. "Get up, Antivan," Greagoir ordered. Against his better judgement, Lucio remained seated. Greagoir glared at him, then added, "It is time for your Harrowing. Unless you'd rather go through the Rite of Tranquility."

Lucio had heard bad things about the Tranquil, and most of what he had seen of those few around the Tower. They were so stoic and serious, it made Lucio sick just thinking about how they were able to go through every day. Rather than risk turning into one of those things, Lucio slowly rose, and followed Greagoir out of the room. Cullen and the other templar stood on either side of him, acting the ever vigilant guards that they were supposed to be. The Antivan gave the other one a disdainful look, then turned to Cullen and gave him a small smile. Even if he was just one of the Knight Commander's lackey, he was a good kid.

Like a prisoner - which, technically, he was - Lucio was lead up the Tower, passing through the library and earning a few unsavory looks from the mages gathered there. Or, perhaps, those were aimed more at the templars than at him. Either way, he merely gave them a wide smile back. He also noticed some that looked more of sympathy, to which he gave no response. He despised being the target of sympathy, and wouldn't dare to acknowledge it. Instead, he held his head high, and marched on through the rest of the Tower, ignoring the rest of the mages and templars he passed. Though, he did shiver a bit when the eyes of the tranquil landed on him.

Finally, they arrived at the top of the Tower, which Cullen informed beforehand was the Harrowing Chamber. Just a large, empty room with a pedestal in the middle. The First Enchanter and another mage stood by it, along with yet another templar. Greagoir stood next to Irving, and the templars took up positions around the middle of the room, Lucio effectively surrounded by the Circle. He folded his hands behind him, and waited for one of the mages to speak. After nearly a minute of uncomfortable staring, Greagoir spoke again.

"Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him. Thus spoke Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin. Your magic is a gift, but it's also a curse. For demons of the dream realm, the Fade, are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world."

"This is why the Harrowing exists," Irving said, continuing from where Greagoir left off. "The ritual will send you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon, armed with only your will."

"Know this, mage. If you fail, we shall perform our duty. You will die. Now, prepare yourself. The Fade is a realm of dreams, but know that you will be able to defend yourself," Greagoir finished, gesturing for Lucio to step forward. Without hesitation, the mage from Antiva walked right up the pedestal, and dipped his hand into the lyrium. The power of that essence of magic coursed through him, and he could feel himself slipping away from reality. Only once before had he purposefully entered the Fade, and doing so a second time did not frighten him.

As his spirit shed its mortal confines and began to change worlds, he could hear something hit the ground heavily, and a gasp from one of the people gathered. And then he was gone from the mortal world, thrown to the wolves in their own territory.

The Tyerin of Gwarden

---

“Well how are we going to get in?”

“You think I know? Don’t you usually need some sort of specialist for this kind of stuff?”

The voices of the two templar recruits echoed through the empty desolate streets of the elven alienage. They stood in front of one of many ramshackle hovels that were stacked atop and around one another some maybe three or four stories high and teetering to one side as if one strong wind coming from the port could blow them down. The dirt paths that served as pathways through the maze like cluster of structures were well worn with the marks of many feet and the occasional cart. The smell of dung and urine clung to the air and one might choose to wonder if it was just dirt that made up the paths.

They stood out in their armor having come out of the stores just recently the polished steel shone brightly in the sun. They represented something that seemed so distant and so foreign to the inhabitants of the alienage. That of a religion that was not theirs and the kind of placement in society that they could not even imagine. Though the third member of their party seemed to fit in with the broken paths and worn down houses much better. Her armor had lost its shine and polish along time before she had ever set foot in the alienage covered in scratches, burns, blemishes that told the story of time and experience.

The Knight-Lieutenant stood in front of the bolted door of the hovel that blocked their path. Her helm was tucked underneath her left arm and she stood in utter silence as she lost herself in her thought. The recruits should not have come with her, she had told the Knight-Commander to pick anyone else beside her. But they had to survive at least one field operation to be able to finally graduate truly into the order, no matter how dangerous said operation may be. She would of prefered to go in alone, there was less room for human error and when one mistake stood between life and death fresh recruits no matter how hard they trained them were still just that fresh.

Arryn had little choice in the matter though and what was to occur, was to occur. And by the will of Andraste and the power of the Maker they would all make it out alive. She took her helm and put it upon her head letting the familiar darkness enclose upon her and block out the world around her. She raised one hand into the air, a simple gesture the recruits understood and silence was casted over them as they moved into position. The metallic trill of metal being pull from a scabbard arose behind her as the recruits drew their weapons and got into a ready stance. She looked at the door once and then twice making small calculations in her head before she raised her leg slightly and slammed the heel of her metal boot into it.

The door no matter how reinforced was still in an alienage and so the wood was cheap and made of whatever the elves could afford, and as a result you put enough force into it and it would come down no matter what. The door buckled from the first impact and splinters and flecks littered the ground. She repeated the action one more time and the door could not hold against the force another time. It buckled and went rigid for a moment before it fell to ground the small wooden hinges having been torn from the wall releasing it from the wall. No professional locksmith needed.

The hole where the door should of been revealed a long hallway where the light of the sun was swallowed by darkness. An unnaturally cold air drifted out from the bellows of the building and escaped into the outside world. It was once a large tenant house filled with at least twenty individual families all crowded together living in one hole in the ground. But almost ten days before in the middle of the night screams were heard and anyone that was sent in to go check had not come out. To protect themselves they had boarded up the windows and made two men armed with small pikes usually used to pick up dung from the roads outside to ward off whatever was inside. The Elder Sarethia suspected dark magic and something more foul than your average creature of the Brecilian that had managed to find its way into the Alienage.

The two recruits look towards one another trying to gauge if the other was just as nervous before they turned to look back towards the Lieutenant. She was silent as she drew out her own sword and shield from her back and without another word stepped outwards from the safety of a land of sun and the smile of the Maker into a world of darkness. The shadows looked as if they reached out and grabbed her as she stepped in and a moment later she was lost in sight. The recruits shared one last glance before following in after her.

The smell of death and decay was thick in the air and it seemed as if they had stepped into some sort of nightmare. The hallway was painted the thick and dark color of dried blood following a trail that seemed to originate somewhere deeper in the darkness as if someone had dried to escape the slaughter by crawling away only to be dragged back. The occasional limb and appendage was strewn across the floor and the smell of sulfur and ash loafted about. Arryn seemed unfazed and pressed inwards she had sensed something waiting in the darkness and whatever it was she was not to let it escape, the recruits stayed close and tried their best to remain calm even though within their armor they trembled slightly. Their teachers at the monastery had warn them of the things they would face but they never expected it to be so.. so horrific.

Up ahead they heard a sound and they all tensed as swords were raised into combat ready positions. Though as they listened it did not seem to be the sound of an abomination or demon coming to destroy them it was instead the quiet and hopeless sound of whimper lost and afraid in the darkness. She raised her hand again into the air this time with one finger upwards as she pointed it towards the direction of the sound. The two nodded and followed her towards the doorway where the sound was emanating from.

They entered swords raised and ready for the worst but inside they found nothing except for one elven woman who was in the corner. Her clothes seemed to be little more than tattered rags by that point having soaked up the blood greedily around her they were now a dark brown in color. She had clutched in her hand a small metal object which seemed to be some sort of knife used to cut and prepare meat the only means of defense that she could find in the chaos. Though more unsettling to the Templars was her right leg which was seemingly hanging attached to her body by a few fragments of sinew and muscle the rest of it was torn and burnt and twisted in directions that such a body part should not be able to move in.

Their arrival had drawn her attention and she raised her head slowly at them her eyes were hollow and distant as if when she looked at them she was looking somewhere else entirely. Her face was covered in blood and her hair stuck to her skin and when she spoke her voice was raspy and sluggish as if she had forgotten how to speak. “Fire everywhere, screams, nobody is safe. IT will find you, the fires will rain from the sky. The march of the creatures of the depths will come to the surface, they have found the sleeping giant and soon it will hear their call. Nobody is safe, nobody is saf-”

Her voice was cut off as the Lieutenant’s blade plunged itself into her chest and her body was wracked with spasms it jerked once and then twice before it laid still. The lieutenant withdraw her blade and gently brought a hand down to the eleven woman’s face closing her eyes. The two recruits look at each other in shock and then at Arryn who looked at them stone faced as usually her eyes showing no emotion through the slot of her helmet. She spoke in a matter of fact tone as she began to walk away back towards the hallway not waiting for them to follow.

“The creature that had invaded here had corrupted her with lunacy. We are charged with being the living will of the Maker. Sometimes that greatest mercy he can bestow upon us is death.”

They continued down the hallway progressing farther into the unending silence. They occasionally heard sounds but it all summed up to nothing besides the wind or a stray rat rummaging among the carcesses. They continued to follow the trail of blood towards the back of the building where the stench of death was the greatest. The reach to the door to the “commons” area where all the families would gather for meals and gathering and the children would play and frolic and their parents or their parents parents would tell stories of the past of heroes conquering villains.It was a place of warmth and happiness where the hearth was always burning and smiles even in the conditions that they lived in could be seen. It was also the place where all these horrors seemed to originate from.

They opened the door and entered the room the stench of death was prevalent its origin from the pile of corpses in one corner of the room. On the far wall an elven man was impaled and hung limp a sword sticking through his chest. Above him on the wall was a symbol of some unknown arcane origin made in blood. Arryn had seen this kind of work before it was primarily the reason she was in Gwarden in the first place. It was a summing sign of some sort something archaic and old used by the old Tenvintars of the imperium and used in ancient and powerful blood magic.

The sound of heavy footsteps drew their attention and out from the darkness came a revenant. It was covered in armor that seemed older than the city itself and a worn and used sword and shield. It was once a living creature but a demon of desire or pride that was let through with the use of the summoning had possessed and overtaken it. Its eyes faintly glowed red and it raised its sword as it spoke in a voice that seemed to have come from another plain of existence to speak to them.

”I’m the desire of strength and power that you pitiful mortals could never understand. I’m pride and I will slay you fools where you stand.”

“Abomination! We are the swords of Andraste and we shall bring forth the Makers wrath!” Arryn shouted as she raised her sword up into a combat stance and charged the recruits close behind her. The revenant’s laugh seemingly everywhere through the room echoing through the darkness as he raised his sword. Arryn felt the familiar rush of magic as she heard a shout next to her as one of the recruits was dragged off of his feet and flew through the air right towards the creature impaling himself upon the creatures blade blood came splattering across the room in pierrots splashing against Arryn and the other recruit. Before they had a chance to retaliate the creature threw the corpse of his blade with immense strength towards the Lieutenant. With quick reflexes she was able to bring up her shield to soften the blow as the body covered in heavy armor slammed into her sending the both of them into the opposite wall punching a hole through the weak wood.

Her head was ringing as she laid upon the ground the breath knocked out of her and her vision blurred and undecipherable. As things came back into focus her eyes were met starring into the dead ones of the recruit now on top of her. She shook her head and with a grunt pushed the dead body of her and got back up onto her feet. She let out a curse under her breath as she charged back through the hole and back into the common room.She arrived back in the fight just in time to see the abomination cut down the other recruit without mercy casting his broken and bloody body aside as the creature turned to face her. Sword raised and ready.

”One left....” the voice whispered through the darkness the smile being able to heard upon its lips. Arryn charged at the creature with a yell as she roared with challenge. The familiar spark of lyrium was felt charging through the air as she did and a radiating pulse of energy came forth from her and struck the creature. It roared in pain as it raised its sword and Arryn felt the familiar rush of magic come through the air and before it drag her to her demise she flicked her own sword as she drew in closer. And a spark lit through the room as it crackled with energy as a loud pop was heard as she shattered the creatures magic. And moments later their swords and shields crashed into one another.

A flurry of blows followed and metal crashed upon metal as each blow was met by another just as fierce. The demon pushed hard against her but she pushed just as hard back towards it and slowly she gained ground upon her assailant with each blow. Things finally came to a head as she pushed it against the wall where the arcane sign was drawn upon in blood. It came down with a heavy overhand swing which she countered by smashing her own shield up against the blade forcing it upwards and into the wall behind them. Now unarmed she bashed the shield against its helm before running her blade through its chest impaling the demon upon the wall. It roared as it tried to get off of the wall screaming curses of an unknown language. Arryn ripped the sword of out of the elven body impaled next to him that was used to start all this horror and drove it right through one of the creatures glowing red eyes finally slaying it as it called out.

”YOU CAN NOT KILL ME! I WILL RETURN CURSED HUMAN AND YOU SHALL PAY THE PRICE OF DENYING MY RETURN!” And with that the red faded from its eyes and the corpse was freed from the demons influence and just shattered bone and decayed flash clattering to the ground. Arryn was breathing heavily as her heart beat hard against her chest as she picked up her sword from the debris. Looking around at the carnage around her and her she was covered in blood and without a lead to chase down the perpetrators that had been summoning these creatures once again as the trail ran cold with the bodies strewn about, the only hint being the sign that was present in all the locations so far. Hanging her head it seemed like it was time for her to leave this place. “Damn, damn, damn.” she muttered under her breath.

The two elven guards stationed outside of the building with their small pikes were tense and waiting. They heard sounds coming from inside of the cursed place screams and shouts. They waited outside for the creature that was of sure to have killed the templar fools was to come and kill the both of them before it destroyed the rest of the Alienage. They heard footsteps coming from inside and they raised their pikes arms shaking as they did watching and waiting. What came out surprised them the Lieutenant covered in blood dragging behind her the two bodies of the recruits that had come with her both of them torn by what seemed to be wounds of a sword. As the Lieutenant turned and headed down the dirt path towards the entrance to the Alienage she spoke to the guards in a flat tone void of emotion.

“Your demon has been slain and you can go and collect your dead.” And without another word she was gone.

---

Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. And in their blood the Maker's will is written.
-Benedictions 4:11

As Kathleen drained her mug, the sight of movement from the corner of her eyes caught her attention. Then she heard someone speaking, undoubtedly to her, addressing the very topic of bandits she was just having. Kathleen cast a gaze toward the speaker...and was surprised to find no one; it took her only a moment to realize however the owner of the voice was in fact a dwarf. Kathleen gave her a measuring look with an unreadable expression as she digested the dwarf’s question.

"I alone." She said simply before raising her empty mug to get the bartenders attention. As he quickly refilled it she explained. "And I don't carry enough coin to pay for sellswords. Ash Warriors don't fight for money." She added pointedly.

The barman nodded. "Ah, quit true," He turned his attention to Sereda. "I fear you be fresh out’o luck if it's be money you seek. The Ash Warriors are kind of the de facto law around these parts, more or less. The militia prefer to keep to the towns, which leaves the only the Ash Warriors and other assorted mercenaries to deal with highway men, the uncommon stray wolf pack, and any savage- err, raiders, from the Korcari wilds." He gave an uncomfortable disarming, if not apologetic smile Kathleen's way, revealing more than a few bad teeth. Kathleen for her part ignored him.

Just then he brightened up as if just remembered something. "Ah! That does bring my mind to somethin though! I hear that these cutthroats are led by a man named Joffrey, the 'Devil Stag' they's call him. Real rotten piece of work that one, I hear tell that he strung up five good men the king sent after him some months back by their legs to hang from a tree out in the wilds, then left them helpless prey for wild beast." He shook his head with a disgust look on his face. "Ain't no death too good for that one, but!” he added excitedly. “The king put out quit a bounty on his head he did." He nodded now as if coming on to an idea. "What was it now...AH! Right, about 50 sovereigns, alive, to meet the king’s justice, ten sovereigns for each of those men he done in. Allot of men have tried to claim it...none yet have succeeded." He added grimly.

He then laughed and clapped his hands. "Of course, I'm sure he's no match for the likes of an Ash Warrior- No offense meant madam, but I wouldn't tangle with you!" He gave a short laugh at that before wiping an eye. "But I suppose that would be common ground for a partnership of sorts. Of course it's none of my business! Nope!"

Kathleen fixed the man with a narrow glare before taking another swig. "As I said, I prefer to work alone. Even then I it wouldn't be with a stranger."

The old barkeep merely shrugged as he went back to wiping the counter. All the while keeping an ear to what went on between the Dwarf of the Chasind giant.

After Myrn had dropped the boy off at his home, she had begun to walk back towards the Alienage cluching the amulet the little girl gave to her. Despite it's faulty design, Myrn could feel the power flowing through it. Certainly something she'd be keeping for the time to come. Exspcially for what Myrn had in mind next.

While the job with the girl was simple enough, Myrn felt that she needed to go after the Blood Mage now. On a scale of dangerous task, this surely ranked the highest. But to Myrn, the longer she put off stopping the mage, the longer he had to gain strength and become more dangerous for the Alienage, or even the city as a whole. But she knew that she would need some help; trying to take on a Blood Mage with only her power would require a lot of time and material, two things that she didn't have in abundance. But who would want to help her?

Alexander choose that moment to make his presence known, he had been discretly following the Dalish girl for the day and now that she had stopped seemed like as good as a time as any to approach her. "Might I offer you help? You seem to have come across some sort of complication" He said, extending a hand to the elf woman, a smile on his face "My name is Alexander, what would be yours?" He said as he waited for the Dalish warrior to introduce herself, although he could feel a magical item on her which was probably a reward for those quests she had been doing.

It had been easy to find her, really, a Dalish woman tended to attract a lot of atention, specially if she was running through all around Denerim, from the market place to the palace district, asking about the Grey Wardens and missing elven children. He had even heard a couple of elves on the street talking about her in hushed tone, as if she was some kind of local legend despite her short stay in the city; but who could balme them for not many people in Denerim knew about the Dalish elves and most elves of the Alienage treated them as either some fantasy dreamed up by rebellious elves or some glorified elven thugs.

Myrn perked up as someone called out to her. From their style of dress and the staff they carried, the person was some sort of mage. A warrior mage, from the armor and sword. The stranger, Alexander, wanted to offer his help in exchange for the elf's name. She smiled politely and took his hand. "I am Myrn Atisha. A pleasure to make your aquaintence, Sir Alexander. And I do need some help, but I'm not so certain if you would be willing. What are your thoughts about blood mages?" Myrn did not want to make any secret that she was going to hunt a Blood Mage, and did not want to put Alexander in harm's way if he did not want to.

Alexander shook her hand once she had accepted his, cocking an eyebrow when she mentione that she was hunting a Blood Mage. "Hmm, my opinion on blood magic. It is my belief that it shouldn't be used to harm other people, but if people desire themselves to use it there's nothing I can do to stop them, unless hey hurt someone else then I believe they should be stopped" He said after thinking for a while, it had been a tricky question for he couldn't claim to despise it for he knew it himself after living on Tevinter "If this isn't contrary to your ideals, I'd love to help you take him down. After all, people should be free to live their lives without danger be it either from blood mages or any sort of opressing force. Wouldn't you agree?" He said, returning her smile and awaiting for her answer "I do hope my answer doesn't incomodate you" He added, not wanting to alienate a potential ally from the get-go.

Myrn smiled and then lightly punched Alexander on the chest playfully. She wasn't sure he'd even feel it past the armor. "Now who said anything about taking him down? For all you know, I could be a blood mage, looking for help." Myrn's smile suggested that this was just a jest and motioned for Alexander to follow her. "Come with me. I'll explain what I need your help with as we go." Myrn began to walk back towards the Alienage with Alexander in tow.

"Recently a family in the Alienage took him a runaway mage. It was only suppose to be for the night, and only long enough for him to leave the next day. Sure enough he was gone, after killing the family and using their bodies for a Blood Ritual. The Alienage is in shock and wants someone to eliminate the Blood Mage before he takes anymore victims. Normally they'd simply call upon the Templars, but there is another mage in the Alienage who does not wish for the Templars to arrive, fearing that their investigation would root out all the mages who are hiding in the Alienage. Not everyone who flees the Circle is as mad as the mage who killed the family, but regardless, someone needs to stop them before the Templars get involved. And that's where we come in. So far my only sources knows that the mage is based near the Alienage, but there hasn't been any signs of his work or influence anywhere. To that end, we're going to start at the beginning; the house where the family was killed."

And so Myrn took Alexander into the Alienage to the scene of the crime. Like most of the elvin families, they lived in a single apartment building, however due to the recent killings the entire building had been evacuated. There wasn't really any need to, but generally even elves don't like to be in the same building where people died. The room were the family as killed was locked, but with a slam of her sword, Myrn managed to break the lock and enter.

The room certainly looked horrific. Myrn herself nearly gagged at the sight. The bodies were butchered and arranged in the circle made of their own blood, still red due to the magic that occured here. Myrn steeled her resolve however as she carefully examined the circle. Despite all the teachings that her mother taught her, she knew little of blood magic and wouldn't be able to make sense of the spell circle. "Let's... Let's look around... See if we can find something, anything, that could tell us where the mage might be hiding..."

Alexander laughted at Myrn's jest, he liked her she seemed to have good head on her shoulders "Based on your comment, I gues you are a mage and not a warrior" He said, laughing still but more softly this time. He listened to Myrn's story, it was a typical story -more so than it was thought- a sympathetic family takes in a runaway mage an for one reason or the other the other day the family is dead the "innocent" stranger is gone and then everybody is calling the templars. He clenched his fists and let a sigh. "Bloody idiots, no doubt they still end up locking us at birth." He said bitterly, unclenching his fist, but then returned to the present time, he looked at the alienage and felt a bit nostalgic as he remembered his time in the streets.

He followed Myrn towards the house, noticing that more than a few elves gave him bad looks but he couldn't blame them. He even felt some kinship towards them, as a mage he too was hated and if he was ever to be found it would either be the Rite of Tranquility or death for him but he also knew that the elves suffered other types of discrimination too. He looked as Myrn forced the door opened and noticed how she gagged, but to him this scene was known to him... He had even seen worst in Tevinter when his master had decided to "educate" him in what happened when an Altus overused blood magic, the place had been a butcher's shop with all the servants and slaves of the mage ritualistically ordered in runic circles and after that he had trouble being impressed by other uses of blood magic.

He patted Myrn on the shoulder after he was done thinking "Hey, if you want you can stay outside." He said sympathetically to her, squeezing her shoulder softly. "I can take care of this." He said in a soft tone, he waited for Myrn to make her decision and then took off one of his gauntlets. He knelt in front of the circle and dipped his fingertips on the still fresh blood, a rush of energy coursing through his veins like liquid fire as he did. He frowned after the sensation had gone away, this was definitively powerful magic. "I can't be sure but this ritual was either done to communicate or summon one or more demons." He told Myrn and then began looking around the room, but not before moving the corpses away and covering htem with a blanket. "May the Maker have you at His side" He murmured sadly to the corpses before he returned to investigate the room, he found an old parchment detailing some ruins. "Hmm, I think I know where our blood mage might have gone but I don't know the exact location." Said Alexander as he stared at the parchment. "But I know someone who does, would you care to accompany me?" He asked her softly, he knew that she'd most likely say yes but he prefered to be polite and ask her.

Myrn tried her best to ignore the ghastly scene as she looked around. When Alexander told her that she could wait outside, she shook her head. "No... This is my investigation. I have to be here." Focusing more on looking and less at the horrific scene, Myrn didn't find much of note. Mostly just scattered belongings and torn up books. The only thing she did find that might have any use in this investigation was a folded peice of paper, written in blood. She couldn't make sense of what was on it however, only that it might have been a word. Soon Alex mentioned that he might have an idea where the Blood Mage went to, or at least someone who may know. Myrn was just glad that this search yielded some sort of fruit, so she quickly followed Alex out.

He then made his way towards to the Denerim Market, where an old contact from the mage's collecive awaited him. He talked with him for quite some time, procuring some items from his as well for the ruins were apparently in a forest not far from here but were infested with spiders "I found the location Myrn, it's a ruin on a forest a few miles from here. I took the liberty to buy some lyrium potions and a few health poultices, I am afraid the ruins are infested and we don't know what the blood mage might have summoned in the time he has been there."

"I think I have an idea." Myrn showed Alexander the paper she had found. After much examination, she managed to spell out the word "Pride". "Pride Demon. One of the strongest of their types, from what I've hear. And if that's the case, we can't waste any more time. Who knows what he might be doing or what he'll do if he succeeds." Myrn took her share of the supplies and made her own preperations. Mainly, she sharpened her sword to ensure that the next cut runs deep.

Myrn and alexander left Denerim for the forest nearby. Despite the person they're after, it was a beutiful day. Between Denerim and the forest was a breezy meadow with tall grass and wild flowers. It would be a find day to play where it not for the things that the two needed to do. Though if there was one thing that the made the meadow unlikable, it was the lack of cover. It was a double-edged sword; it prevented Myrn and Alex from being able ot hide themselves, but also made the spiders approaching them no less stealthy. "Prepare yourself Alex. It looks like we have company."

Five spiders approached the two mages. Venom dripped from their fangs and a low hissing sound could be heard from their bodies, just a subtle reminder to the two that the spiders see them as their next meal. Myrn wasted no time creating a suit of Rock Armor for herself and looked towards Alexander. "We don't have much time. Do you have an suggestions before they get too close?" Myrn drew her sword and took on an offensive stance. If they were going to attack, Myrn aimed to strike first.

"Hmm, this is going to be problematic if he managed to summon the demon." Thought Alex when Myrn showed his the piece of paper. "Thanks for telling me Myrn." He said softly, taking his share of the supplies and looked as Myrn sharpened her sword. He didn't do much preparation, unless he had to make a ritual to enter the Fade, but deicded to meditate for a bit, to steel his resolve against any demonic incursion they might facein the ruins.

He looked his surroundings, remembering that the first time he had come to Denerim it had been similar like this. So had been the day he had returned from Tevinter, with no clothes and almost no money; and yet he realized it was a beautiful day which made him sigh as he felt a wierd mix of melancholy and hapiness, he however snapped into focus when he heard the sound of spiders approaching them. "Indeed, it seems so Myrn." He said as he readied his staff, counting five spiders coming towards them.

He looked as Myrn conjured a Rock Armor to defend herself, and then pondered their next move. "I'll try to freeze one of them, and then you try to shatter it with a stone spell, ok?" He told her, freezing one of the spiders and then turned to attack another one and casting a Virulent Walking Bomb on it. He then drew his sword as the spiders approached them, surrounding them as best as they could; he threw a fireball to the one that he had cast the bomb on but was distracted by a second as the explosion blocked his view by the splattering blood and in that instant a spider sank it's fangs into one of the few parts of his armor that had no metal platings with the venom soon coursing through his veins, but he was determined to keep fighting.

Myrn nodded her head as the battle began. Alexander started by freezing one of the Spider's solid, to which Myrn reacted by launching a Stone Fist at the creature, shattering it into ice shards. By the time the first beast had been killed, the other four managed to engage the two mages. Alexander used two spells, one which was an obvious fireball, and another that seemed to make the spiders explode in a fory mess. 'Impressive." Myrn thought to herself. But that thought was soon lost as one of the spiders attacked Alexander. Myrn rushed to his aid, slamming the edge of her sword deep into the spider's neck. The spider was more durable than Myrn had thought as the beast was still alive, but the force was enough to cause it to fall to the ground, ripping it's teeth out of Alexander's leg. Myrn didn't give it a chance to get back up as she stomped on it's body and stabbed it through the head.

Three down, two more to go. The two spiders lunged at Myrn and Alexander, but Myrn had a trumpcard handy. She used a Mind Blast to knock the two spiders mid-ludge, sending them sprawling to the ground together. "Now Alexander! Take them both out at once!"

Alexander focused first of all in wiping the blood from his face. He then looked back at the spiders, and focused on the weakest one, spending another Walking Bomb that soon exploded, leaving the other dying and unable to move. Alexander approached the dying spider and with a slash of his sword sliced off it's head cleanly "Maker's breath, I forgot to cover my eyes." He said annoyed at himself. "I guess we better check the corpses of the spiders." He said and leaned down on the corpses, extracting their poison glands and whatever items they had in their bellies from any travelers they had eaten.

He made his way to the forest, but not before stopping to put a bit of one of the poultice's on the wound and hoping it would stop the poison from spreading. They walked into the forest, a cold place in comparison to the meadow, were the tree's themselves seemed to be blocking the sun's ray's. But soon enough, they were upon the ruins a skeleton leaned against the entrance. He pointed his staff towards it and raised the skeleton, an archer, so it would help them against any dangers they might encounter.

At the ruins, there didn't seen to be anything going on. The ground was covered with dirt and leafs undisturbed, and even the skeletons seemed to have been there for ages. Truly, it was likely that the two were the first to be here in quite a while. Though that should not be the case if the mage was suppose to be here. "Keep your eyes sharp. Something is not right..." Myrn looked around the ruins, careful not to leave much evidence of her being there. There was no sign that the Blood Mage was here, no rituals, not even the smell of death and decay. It seemed that Myrn and Alexander got here first.

Not one to waste a chance like this, Myrn used her knowledge surviving in the forest to find key hiding spots. Once she determined which places would be best to remain unnoticed she returned to Alexander. "Looks like we got here first. Let's not waste this chance; that bush over there is large enough to hide you and give you a good view of the ritual sight. You should hide there and watch for the mage if he shows up. I'll be hidden on the upp branches of that tree there, ready to jump down at him if he runs my way, or at least at a good spot to rain magic upon him. Let's hurry and wait for him to show up."

"Yes, you are right." Said Alex, it was strange the mage had a day advantage over them. He should had already been here. And yet they looked like the first to enter the ruins for at least a few years. He scanned the area, but could detect no sign of the slightest of tampering, they truly had gotten there first. He let Myrn explain herself and nodded "Seems like a good plan. But the mage will be here soon, if I am right he already has all the people he needs for the sacrifice." He said grimly as he went to take his position on the bushes, ordering his skeleton to wait among a group of other corpses so they could take the mage for surprise, letting out a sigh as he did so, they were first only because the mage had probably stopped to take the sacrifices he required to summon the Pride demon, a thought which send shivers down his spine.

With Alexander and his undead minion in place Myrn went to her hiding spot and waited. It felt like hours for how long it took, when in truth it was barely half and hour when the mage showed up. Following him were a couple of elves that Myrn had never seen before. They didn't seem to be bound by any physical means, though if Myrn had to guess the mage was using his Blood Magic to make the elves follow him. She was almost tempted to go ahead and attack him, but right now was too soon. She would start the attack as the mage began his ritual; to save as many of the elves as she can, she wants to mage to be completely focused on his ritual, perhaps even expand some of his energy first, and attack him when he's most vulnerable.

The mage's ritual began as he cleaned the ruins up a bit, revealing what looked to be some sort of alter with a rune engraving. No doubt the key part of his ritual that he failed to consider, giving that the one he created in the Alienage looked similiar, but less detailed. He began by cutting his own wrist and letting himself bleed onto the alter. Despite the small amount of blood that dropped, the entire alter turned a blood red as a sign that the ritual was beginning. The mage began to chant something in the demon tongue as he cut his other wrist, spilling more of his blood onto the alter. Despite doing something that most would consider suicidal, the mage seemed to show no sign of distress or pain from his actions. It was unnerving to say the least.

And it wasn't until the mage ordered one of the elves to lay down onto the Alter that Myrn was ready a spell. The mage raised his staff at the elf, no doubt ready to sacrifice her before Myrn casted a Force Field spell around the thrall. It blocked the mage's attack and caught him off guard. "Now Alexander!"

Alexander leap from his hiding spot at the same time as his undead thrall, first he sent a small ball of concentrated elecriticty that stunned him for a few seconds which allowed his thrall to nock an arrow and fire it, the arrow hitting the mage on the arm that carried the staff. He looked at the thralls, and than back at the blood mage who was still stunned and than approached the thralls and made a small cut on his palm -his skin cracking slightly as red lines appeared when he used the magic- and sent the blood to the thralls "You are free, now run!" He shouted at them, they seemed a little groggy and maybe they were still susceptibles to following orders but they did as they were told, Alexander stoping to check on them from time to time until he was sure they were at a safe distance.

That proved to be a mistake, for soon enough he droped to his knees as the blood on his whole body began to boil down, the mage approaching him and returning his same attack from before making Alex scream. "Why do you resist me, you and I are. Practicioners of the same magics" Said the blood mage, an elf that seemed all to content to having Alexander kneeling in front of him. "Though, I won't deny that this proves that this proves that elves are superior mages to humans." He said, a smirk on his lips "Does that include superior ego?" Said Alexander as he thrusted his stword into the blood mages thigh, making him drop to his knees which was followed by a kneecap to the gut.

The Mage stumbled back snarling. "You insolent fool! You don't even know the powers that I posses. Witness true strength!" The mage roared as he stepped onto the alter. Since he didn't have any sacrifices, he had to use his own blood for his ritual. And his hubris convinced himself that he could do it. He was right, but not completely. His body began to convulse and twist. Myrn tried to inturput by launching a Stone Fist at the mage, but it was intercepted by a much larger, molted hand. "Finally! The mortal realm!"

Demons emerged from the alter. The mage collapsed, and from his body another demon rose, one who looked more menacing than the other three that came with it. "That mage took much too long to summon us. His rants of superiority were tiresome. But we see that you have come to stop him, and in turn, us. But it does not have to be that way." Myrn readied another spell, but the demon who intercepted her first one was ready to block this next one as well. "Show yourself, mage! There is no need to hide from us. We wish to parley." Myrn did not hesitate to get onto the ground, her sword at the ready to either lash out or to launch her spell. The demons watched her carefully as well as she walked up to Alexander. She had half expected to simply attack the demons, though she waited. Not for the demons, but for Alexander.

Alexander leaned against the wall, the demon's offers had been surprising and he had heard of a few mages who through demonic pacts had become immensively powerful. He looked as Myrn walked towards him, and he motioned for her to sit besides him "So, quite the intriguing situation we find ourselves in eh Myrn?" Said Alex, probably not taking the appropiated seriousness to the situation due to the spider poison coursing through his veins or the fact that his blood had been boiling a few seconds ago "What's your position in all of this Myrn?" He asked her as he turned to look at her in the eyes.

Myrn would be staring at Alexander in disbeleif if she wasn't focused on making sure the demons didn't try to pull a fast one on them. "What are you asking, Alexander? That we deal with these demons? They... I have no doubts that they would go through with their deal, whatever it may be. Promise of power, fortune, whatever... But they're still demons. The only reason they're dealing with use right now is because we can destory them. We must." The demons, overhearing this, got tensed and ready for battle, but the leader of them was still very relaxed and calm. He spoke out to the two of them.

"I would not lie to you when I say that we wish to see this world and those who stand out in it. We have heard stories in the land you call the Fade, and there we have heard stories of you mortals and the things that you have done. Things that even we, who embody your goals and aspirations, have never acheived. We want to see these things ourselves, to see what it is that makes the mortals so... Powerful. We did not want anyone to be harmed to this end, but it was the only way we had to escape the Fade. Please understand, we do not wish to harm anyone any longer. If you let us on our way, we will be eternally grateful."

Alexander listened to what Myrn said, what she said was right for demons never bargained if they tought they had the upper hand, his master had taught him that when he was younger. But then, he felt so tired and the promises of the demons spoke of things that didn't seemed evil.... He could imagine himself being hailed as a hero that had united both worlds eventually leading the whole of Thedas into an utopian era. He looked at Myrn, staying silent for a few minutes and dhemons seemed impacient "Myrn, help me stand." He said weakly, he had underestimated the effect that the spider poison had on him.

Once she had helped him stand up he approached the demons "My response is." He said, his skin beginning to crack as his veins started glowing with red light. "No!" He screamed and threw an ice spell at one of the demons "Myrn, Stone Fist now." He shouted at her as he slashed one of the demons with his sword.

Without missing a beat Myrn shattered another demon into ice shards as the one that Alexander slashed recoiled in pain. The other two roared and launched themselves into battle. Creating a new set of stone armor, Myrn threw herself at the bigger demon. She stabbed at him, but onyl grazed his underbelly. He tried to lash out at Myrn but her armor was able to deflect the blow. As Myrn battled the larger demon, the other two weaker ones went to attack Alexander, thinking that they could overpower him. The demon who Alexander slashed continued to engage him in melee, while the other demon prepared to throw a fireball at him.

Alexander evaded the demon's melee attacks Those swordsmanship lessons in Tevinter seem to be paying off." he tought as he battled the demon, evading it's next melee attack but only ot recieve the firebal directly to the chest, the heated metal plates burning his skin and making him hiss in pain. At that moment the second demon lunged on him, making a deep slash on the side of his face, taking the opportunity Alexander stabbed it in the gut and cast a ViIrulent Walking Bomb, shielding his eyes as the demon exploded. Using the confusion from the explosion, he quickly applied a poultice but found that it was nearly innefective as his continous use of Blood Magic made wounds open on his body constantly, he then launched an electricity attack at the demon that had thrown the fireball and dodged a second attack, ending against Myrn's back.

Myrn was having a hard time defeating the demon, even with her skills as an Arcane Warrior. The demon was able to match her blow to blow, using it's unnaturally tough hands to block, parry, and deflect her strikes. Even when she tried to use her Mind Blast to disrupt it's balance, it merely took on the defensive right before her magic hit, allowing it to stay on it's feet. Even her Rock Armor didn't seemt to be able to ignore the force and heat of the demon's blow, which slowly began to whittle down her health. She had to use a Force Field on it just to keep it away. One thing she knew; her attacks weren't going to cut it, and her magic wasn't strong enough to put a dent in it. Well, maybe not hers. Now Alexander's on the otherhand...

After creating a Force Field around the greater demon Myrn stepped back right into Alexander. they stood back-to-back for a brief moment before Myrn spoke. "Let's switch!" Just as the other demon Alex fought was about to launch another fireball, Myrn countered by intercepting the fireball with her own Stone Fist. This caused the explosion to occur well away from the two mages. The demon sought to use the fiery blast to cover the distance, but what the demon likely did not expect was for Myrn to do the same. His charge ended anticlimatically as he was impaled onto Myrn's sword. Around the same time, the Force Field around the greater demon just vanish as he was pushing against it, stumbling out.

Alexander looked at Myrn when their backs hit, she was obviously in trouble "Alright, at the count of three" Said Alex, panting as he catchedh is breath "One...Two...Three!!" He shouted as they switched position, he took the chance when the demon fell to the ground and shot an elecriticty spell at it, taking the chance to slash it as well. He looked as the demon rose and threw a Walking Bomb at it, the spiritual parasite beginning to weaken it and allowing Alexander a few quick slashes with his sword before he had to duck a slash from the demon, taking a glancing blow on his back.

He rose again and threw a Stone Fist at the demon, stunning him for a few seconds and allowing him to throw another electricity spell. From what he gathered the demon was getting weaker by the minute, but he wasn't sure if he could finish him off by himself. Pushing those doubts aside, he slashed more into the demon to weaken him further and throwing in a couple more spells. "Myrn, I need help. Think you can lend me a hand?" He asked her, exhaustion clear on his voice as he spoke.

After pushing the dead demon off her sword Myrn turned to Alexander's aid. He was able to put the demon on the ropes now and just needed someone to finish it off. Myrn was getting pretty tired herself, but felt that she could do this. Channeling her Combat Magic Myrn charged at the demon. He was so busy trying to fight Myrn that he didn't even see her jumping into the air, stabbing her sword right through the side of the demon's head. He gave a blood curdling scream as he flailed wildly at Myrn, his many weak blows doing very little now against her Rock Armor. Soon the demon was still and faded into a smoldering pile of ash. Myrn took deep breaths as she looked over at Alexander, who was just about as bloodied and bruised as she was. Her Rock Armor fell, revealing the wounds she sustained during the battle. "Ah... That was a tough fight." She said as she began to apply some of the healing poultices to the wounded parts of her body.

"Yes, that was quite the intense fight wasn't it." Said Alexander tiredly, collapsing against a wall out of sheer tiredness but luckily didn't black out, he then began to apply poultices all over his body, they being more effective now that he wasn't casting spells and his Blood Magic was in a more passive state. He dusted himself off and approached Myrn. "Hey, can you help me apply some pultice to my face and back?" He asked her, pointing out to the large slash on his cheek and the one on his back, both would probably scar pretty badly courtesy of the unnatural strenght the demons possessed. He sighted and then looked at the mage's unconcious form. "Better we go and take his ring and get away from here." He said and began to make his way to the form of the elven mage.

After Myrn helped Alexander put the medicine on his wounds she went over to the mage's body. Careful to ensure that he was dead, she stabbed him in the chest with her sword, leaning down to get the ring off his finger. She turned to Alexander and smiled, holdind ring triumphantly in her hand. "I got-"

"YOU!"

Suddenly something grabbed Myrn. She didn't even get a chance to see what before she was thrown towards a tree. It all happened so fast. She was only able to get her arms up and to try to block the impact as best she could, falling and hitting the ground with a thud. She was fairly certain that her arms were broken, maybe fractured, but at least she wasn't dead. not yet. The pain was so unbareable that tears formed in her eyes and made it almost impossible for her to see.

From the body of the mage, a large demon appeared. A pride demon. He had bided his time for his followers to ensure that his escape from the fade went uncontested. Originally, simply bribing the two mages would have been good enough. Killing them if they had to. But the mages overpowered his minions, forcing the demon to take matters into his own hands. He only had a limited time to escape, and he knew that at their full power, the two mages could defeat him. But despite losing his minions, the mages were weak now. The demon could kill them easidly, he thought. As revenge for his loyal followers. "You may think that by defeating my minions you could defeat me. But I am a god compared to you worm. You should have taken my blessings when my messenger offered it. Now you will face judgement." The demon roared out as he slammed his fist at Alexander.

Alexander, still slightly groggy, didn't reach properly and was hit square in the chest, a crunching sound following, he looked besides him to see Myrn lying next to a tree, tears on her eyes. He approached her and placed a hand on her shoulders softly. "I'll take care of it." He said soothingly and with more conviction than he felt, soon enough the cracks in his skin reapeared, he then remembered the undead thrall he had and pooling all the magical energy his blood could give him he unleashed it, raising as many as ten skeleton thralls of all kinds and then using his staff pointed at the Pride Daemon. "Attack." He said, his voice surprisngly calm despite the situation, throwing an ice spell at the demon, which managed to freeze at least one arm, which was soon followed by a Stone Fist "Where is your judgement now, demon?" He asked mockingly to the fade creature as he was assaulted by his undead thralls "Weren't you godlike? But just like your minions you are soon going to fall." He said, noticing that the Pride Demon was getting weaker by the minute, but so was he and as such he had to end the fight quickly. He approached the demon and started slashing at him, throwing a fireball or another elemental spell from time to time.

The Pride Demon roared as his arm was frozen solid. But when he saw the stone fist flying at him, he countered by punching it with his non-frozen fist, shattering the stone while leaving his arm reletivly unharmed. "Your magic does not threaten me, pathetic mortal. Witness true strength!" As the minions gathered to attack the demon, he casted two spells in quick succession: The first was a Frost Burst, which froze the skeletons solid. With a sweep of his arm, he was able to shatter them with very little effort. Another spell he casted when Alexander moved close to attack him with his sword: Mana Wave, which not only cancled Alexander's magic (Such as his Necromancy) but also drained his magic energy. "Without your precious magic you are nothing more than a glorfied ape. Whereas I am still a demon." The Pride Demon than shot his hand out to grab Alexander.

As Alexander was grabbed by the demon, he quickly stabbed it on the hand, making the fade creature drop him. "You forget, that I am no mere mage but a blood mage" Said Alexander as he took his sword and cut himself, letting his blood flow more freely and drawing more power upon it and firing two freezing spells in quick succesion; one aimed at one of his legs and the other one at his arm, once that was done he shoot two Stone Fists to either frozen limb but dangerously draining himself of blood as he did so. Once that was done, he threw a fireball at his face and as the demon was distracted he slashed his legs, hoping to cripple him slightly and then dodged and attack and began to attack his back.

Alexander moved quickly against the Pride Demon, who had some difficulty due to his frozen limbs. One of Alexander's stone fists managed to connect to the demon's arms, shattering it. The other managed to thaw out however, as he once again grabbed the human when he was attacking him from behind. The demon squeezed tighly, so that even if Alexander tried to stab him he would be able to ignore it. Mainly because the demon was near his limit as well; he only had enough energy for one more spell, and it wouldn't save his life. But the demon was certain that he could at least kill Alexander first. "Try all you like, you will die all the same!" As the demon said that, his body began to glow red. He was going to use his last spell to cause a large explosion, one that would surely kill both the demon and Alexander. Even if the demon's hand was to be cut off, he did not let go of the blood mage. That didn't stop Myrn.

Though the pain going through her body was still great, she had managed to get her sword during the battle and took to the high ground. With as much force as she could muster, she cleaved the Demon's hand, causing it to drop to the groundw ith Alexander still in it. It would almost seem too late for the duo as the Pride Demon exploded, engulfing the ruins in a great ball of fire. The only thing left was a smoldering crater... As well as Myrn and Alexander.

Myrn, unconscious from her injuries, had used what little of her energy to preform a spell herself. Force Field, around her and Alexander. Without the Pride Demon's life energy to sustain it, it's massive fist soon faded into ash, freeing Alexander.

Alexander laughed as he destroyed one of the demon's arms. "Not so superior now, are you?" He said with confidence, which proved to be a fatal mistake as the demon grabbed him and squeezed him on it's massive fist, a sick crunching sound emanating from his ribs as they cracked. He saw the demon beginning to glow. "Coward..." He muttered as he slashed at the demon's arm in vain attempt to be released, but the demon only squeezed more tightly making Alex scream in pain as more bones in his body began to fracture.

At that point was when Myrn intervened, her sword cleaving the demons hand but even so the demon appendage still seemed to held him in a tight grip. In fact it was probably more tightly than before, as the demon -realizing that he was going to loose his hand- decided to tighten his grip on Alexander's body. For a second Alexander relaxed himself but soon realized that the demon's hand was still glowing, grimly he prepared for death as the explosion surged from the demons body, closing his eyes....And was surprised when he could open them a few seconds latter.

His surprise only lasted a second, soon noticing the fading Force Field and Myrn's unconcious body. He knelt next to her and patted her pockets, taking the ring. "Thanks Myrn." He said as he took her and threw her over his shoulder this being the easiest way to carry her at least until she regained conciousness. He made the slow trek back to Denerim, his body badly hurt from the fight with several wounds still open and bleeding; he had to stop halfway there to apply some poultices or else he'd collapse before reaching there and then they'd both probably die, once that was done he continued his way to Denerim, paying the guards to keep silent about the fact that he carried a staff, making a mental note to contact the Collective and ensure that the guards keep silent either through force, bribes or persuasion.

He entered the alienage and handed the unconcious form of Myrn to them. "Take care of her." He grunted and made his way to the mage's house, once there the mage seemed to tense at seeing someone else that wasn't Myrn. Alexander, annoyed, simply produced a fireball on his hand and the mage seemed to relax. "Is it done?" Asked the elven mage, voice trembling slightly, and soon enough Alexander showed him the ring and put it soon back into his pocket "The reward, give it to me." He said softly, a smile -despite that he wasn't feeling like smiling at all- appearing on his face as a result of years living in Tevinter and having to put such smiles when talking with someone of a higher class or when someone had made a request to you. The mage seemed slightly apprehensive but soon enough handed Alexander a tome. "Thank you." He said and left as soon after that, waving goodbye to the mage.

He went to an elf and asked him where they had taken Myrn, once he had given him directions he thanked him and then went to where she was. She was still unconcious, so he took a chair and sat there as he waited for her to wake up and began toying with the ring on his hand, feeling it's power to amplify blood magic "I think I am gonna keep this." He thought to himself and put it on his pocket.

Myrn opened her eyes slowly. She was feeling pain like she hasn't felt in a long time, back when she got ambushed by a bear. Weakly she sat up and tried to look around, noticing Alexander. "Alexander? What.... Did we do it? Did we defeat the blood mage?" A pointless question, Myrn already knew they had won. She was simply exhausted. "We need to go show the mage the ring, let him know that we've beaten the blood mage..."

Alexanded smiled at Myrn and made her lay back. "Yes, we won but I sense that is the tiredness in you talking." He said, feeling quite tired himself and rubbed his eyes for a second and wanting to go to sleep soon "As for showing the mage the ring, you don't need to worry about that I already took care of that while you were being healed." He said and searched on his backpack for the tome the mage had given him and then handed it to Myrn. "There, it is yours." He said softly "Is there anything else you want to ask me Myrn?" He asked her, feeling that his use of Blood Magic hadn't gone unnoticed by her.

Myrn laid back, thinking about what happened. She was... Concerned about some things the demons said and what Alexander did. "Alexander, are you a blood mage too?" Myrn wasn't sure why she was asking. It didn't really matter, but at the same time, it wasn't something she could just ignore.

Alexander sighed, knowing that such a question was inevitable. Instead of answer, he lowered the sleeve of his armor to show her his arm, which was adorned by many cuts that were at least a few years old with the newest one being from today, but if she looked hard enough she could notice that he had some that were at least a week old. "I didn't told you before, but I escaped from the Circle." He said, deciding to tell her the full story. "It was me and a group of four or five appart from me, a group of Templars helped us escape but eventually the group began falling one by one either to the templars or becoming abominations." He continued with a heavy sigh, lacing his fingers and resting his arms on the bed in which Myrn was laid. "Eventually, it was only me and the mage who had taken to be my....mother so to speak." He said, remembering the first years of his life outside the Circle of Magi. "We booked passage from Amaranthine to Tevinter, but she died in the way there from a wasting decease. Once I arrived in Tevinter, I lived on the streets of Minrathous until a mage adopted me into his family as a servant and deiscovered was a mage." He said, weary of remembering hsi time in Tevinter. "Eventually, I was made his pupil and he finished the job that the Circle had begun, that was when I learned Blood Magic." He said, feeling slightly tense and wondering if Myrn would judge him. "You must understand, in Tevinter there is no such social stigma against Blood Magic, it was a natural thing for me to be taught or else I'd end up dead. Though, I swear to you, I have never practiced a Blood Sacrifice." He said, looking at her directly in the eyes when he mentioned the Blood Sacrifice.

"Well..." Myrn sighed and got off the bed. Her body was still a bit sore, but not so much that she can't move. And there was still work to do anyways. "Well... It doesn't matter right now. For what it's worth, I'm glad that you're on my side at least. Come on... We still have work to do." Myrn get herself redressed and rearmed. She looked back at Alexander, but with a smile on her face. Something to show that she still considered Alexander her friend.

Sereda was going to dismiss the Ash Warrior seeing that she had no interest in working with her, but the barkeep made a compelling argument. Sereda herself never really fancied herself a bounty hunter knowing that as great as her skills are, being outnumbered and fighting on enemy turf was a recipe for her death. Now if she got to work with someone else, like say this Ash Warrior, Sereda would be much more willing. The barkeep also mentioned how the king had put a bounty of fifty sovereigns on the outlaw known as the Devil Stag. "Fifty sovereigns? That's no paltry sum there, barkeep. Fifty sovereigns could fund a private army in the steel. I doubt those bandits are making even five sovereigns with their robbing and banditry." The money was almost too good. Not to mention not much use for the effort involved. Killing the Devil Stag would be one thing, but fifty sovereigns to being him in alive? It would almost be too costly. Still... She had an idea of what they could do. If she had the Ash Warrior's help to deal with the Devil Stag's underling, all she would need to do would sever his spine with a solid blow. Paralyze him from the waist down, or even the neck down, but leave him mostly alive. The biggest difficulty than would be making sure he didn't kill himself during the transit. Also, Sereda would need to convince the Ash Warrior to be willing to work with the dwarf.

"Barkeep, a drink for me and the Ash Warrior here. Whatever this covers." Sereda slid a single sovereigns to the barkeep while she got herself some decent ale. Once Sereda had a drink in her she decided to try to talk the Ash Warrior into working with her. "I've heard of the Ash Warriors back at Orzammar. Not many humans can truly master harnessing their rage like the berserkers of old. Too much passion, not enough control. It's the difference between an iron ore and an iron ingot. But when I hear about the Ash Warriors, they're like a fine weapon of destruction. It doesn't matter what they wield, be it a sword, or axe, or even just a simple cudgel. They fight with a rage that many dwarves can only dream of achieving." Sereda took a swig of her drink before finishing it, asking the barkeep to refill it. Sereda continued to talk.

"Of course, a berserker has to know her limits. A warriors rage is a very delicate thing, ironically enough. Rage takes over a person, makes them loose sight of their goal for the sake of fulfilling their emotions. Makes it very easy for them to get trapped, like an animal. A berserker's one strength also becomes it's greatest weakness. But that doesn't always need to be the case." Sereda thanked the barkeep and continued to drink her ale. "If those bandits are as cowardly as the barkeep claims they are, they probably have ways to makes sure not to fight you on even ground. A berserker's fury can only do so much when she's getting rained on by arrows thirty feet above her. Not to mention they probably out number you ten to one. Now you may have heard tales of heroes of old going up against veritable hordes and coming out on top, but don't pretend that you're in a story like that. Even if you were as large as a qunari warrior, it only takes three men to tackle you down and one to stab your eyes out. I should know, back when I was a caravan guard that's exactly how me and some other dwarves took down a qunari warrior. They likely have traps set up too, bear traps, wires, anything to make sure you don't get into a fair fight. And when you get into that rage you might ignore those small things, but it's those things that impede you just long enough for them to get an edge in."

Sereda finished her drink and got off the bar stool. She began to walk out of the tavern, speaking as she was leaving. "Point is, if you decide to do it alone, you're going in under the worse circumstances. Otherwise you'd best hope that they have as much confidence in their skill as you do, or they would do the cowardly thing and shoot you fifty yards away in the safety of their hideout. As for me, this bounty interests me. I think I'll have a crack at it myself. Oh! One more thing. The name's Sereda. I'm going to be in town for a little while longer before I head out to get my mark. Come find me if you change your mind about being a lone wolf." Sereda said with a smile as she left the tavern. She still had some money in her purse, so she was going to get ready to hunt down this Devil Stag like the animal he was. But first, she'd need to get some materials for herself.

The first thing Sereda wanted to do was make some of her mother's Spiral Edge bolts. Nothing short of a solid granite wall would protect anyone unlucky enough to be on the wrong end of one of these. Buying a few pounds of steel and wood to craft the shafts, Sereda was able to produce thirty Spiral Edge Bolts in a short amount of time. The second thing she did was buy some extra padding for her armor, in order to silence the noise from her chain mail as well as provide some cushioning against attacks. Than she started making some traps of her own. She had no doubt that in a fair fight, Sereda would only win using her cunning and cheap tactics. If a fair fight meant dying, than she wasn't going to take it. The next thing she did was start asking around about the Devil Stag. She wanted to know everything she could about him, where he's from, what his motives are. And with any luck, the Devil Stag might even hear about Sereda. Take him out of his hunting grounds and into hers.

Krios

Having been caught up to speed with Warden affairs and having moved into his new room, Krios spent away the morning and early afternoon in tavern. It wasn’t for the sake of personal indulgence nor was it a way for him to escape the burdens which rested on his shoulders – it was a way for him to put his ear to the ground. In fact he didn’t even have a proper drink, instead sticking to water (much to the suspicion of the landlord) so that he would keep some of his wits about him; he already had a couple of cups of diluted wine that morning after all. He learnt of a few events and rumours, some he highly doubted to be true. Some that took his immediate interest were: that there was a fairly large tourney currently going on in the bannorn; that a Dalish elf had been spotted in different parts of the city; and that there had been a commotion the previous night, something to do with a local criminal and an assassin. The tourney would undoubtedly reveal some potential candidates, although Krios did not yet want to leave the city.

Satisfied that he had spent long enough in the dusty old tavern Krios rose from his booth and threw a few coins onto the table as a tip for the barmaid. She seemed to catch him do it and so he winked at her in exchange for nice smile. As he left the building he was temporarily blinded by the light and had to raise his arm for shade. “Fucking drunkards” scoffed a passer-by. Krios tried to spot the man but there were too many people about now, or least many more than there had been in the early morning when he first entered the place. Feeling a rumble in his gut now that he was up and moving, he decided to head towards the market where quickly spotted a bakery.

The bakery was running out of a large exposed barn-like room, its large doors swung open into the large street. Inside there was only four or so people including the obvious baker, a large egg-headed fat man in a not-so-clean apron. As Krios approached a small elvish boy overtook him and ran into the bakery firmly clutching something in his hand. “Hello sir! Can I have a loaf of bread please? I have the money.” The boy seemed rather excited and one could perhaps believe by his frame that it would be his first meal in days.

The baker seemed enraged by the arrival and stepped towards the young boy. “Where did you get that? You fucking stole it didn’t you?! You little shit” the baker grabbed the boys wrist and took the coins as he made the accusation. “Fucking filth!” he continued as he punched the boy to the ground. The scene wasn’t exactly hard to miss and many people clearly chose to ignore it or truly didn’t care. Krios however quickened his pace.

“Please sir! I didn’t do anything!” pleaded the boy desperately as he feebly tried to scuttle backwards.

“Get up” the baker sighed as he yanked the boy back up. There was a pause and for a moment the boy thought it might be over but the baker was only holding him up for a better shot. A strong right punch would have hit the young boy and likely caused a fracture, however the punch was caught mid-flight. “What the?” exclaimed the baker at the large man-paw grasping his fist. With an angry grunt Krios thrust the man’s fist into his own face, breaking his nose and sending him back a step. The baker went to fight back but Krios lunged forwards with a head-butt, sending the man toppling into a shelf. Krios didn’t relent however, instead he jabbed his palm into the man’s mouth, knocking out his teeth and then held his hand there to muffle his cries. With his other hand he grasped at the baker’s other selection and begun to squeeze quite hard.

“I have little respect for thieves. Less still for those that rob children. And I have absolutely none for those that would beat them too.” hissed Krios as the man squirmed. When the pain had gotten too much for the man and he begun to keel over, Krios merely chucked him to the side. Without saying another word Krios proceeded to grab two loafs of bread, one he gave to the boy who then ran off, the other he placed under his arm as he began to casually stroll out.

“Don’t just fucking stand there! What do I pay the protection money for?” coughed the baker causing two armed men, previously unnoticed, to step out. Krios didn’t know whether it was because the men were smart enough not to fight him or whether it was just that they didn’t care, but the two men merely shrugged and allowed Krios to go on his way. As he stepped onto the fairly busy street he expected a few eyes to be upon him but instead many were drifting towards the sight of a strangely armoured man carrying what appeared to be a dalish woman over his shoulder.

Lucio - The Fade

Lucio's eyes snapped open. For a fleeting moment, he thought he was still in the Tower. He hadn't remembered blacking out. However, he was quick to correct himself. This twisted realm could be none other than the Fade. It didn't look too different than what he remembered, though before it had been a perverted version of Antiva City. Perhaps, it simply mattered on the location of where you were sent. But, then, shouldn't it look like the Tower, if only in shape? He shook his head, and stood up. He glared around, waiting for an onslaught of demons, spirits, whatever they called themselves, to come rushing over the ridges. When nothing came, he let out a breath.

He sat and waited for a moment, taking a better look at his surroundings. Where he currently stood, there was a tiled brick floor, which eventually melded into a dirt-like area that led off to another area. Pillars that led up only to scrape at the sky at intervals in the "room," while a statue of a mage with tentacles for arms stood overlooking him. Far above, there were islands, connected by land bridges that may have spanned five feet or five leagues. For all he knew, the demon he was meant to face could be on any one of the islands. Hopefully, it would be at least somewhat nearby. Greagoir hadn't exactly specified that there was a time limit, but Lucio didn't doubt that there was one.

Standing up, he began to head towards the pathway that led deeper into the Fade. He allowed his mind wander a little, back to the time when his old master had brought him to the Fade, years ago. His master, who had probably been a Crow, now that Lucio thought about it, had been a master of manipulating the Fade. He remembered how the old man had been able to create weapons and items out of the void, and use them with an effectiveness of something that was real. Of course, it was real. Reality was subjective in the Fade. Something that had been difficult for young Lucio to grasp, and was still fairly difficult. He didn't like that something could be made or unmade with just his mind. Though, in theory, that was just what mages did on a daily basis, with any spell. Still, it was a bit unsettling for him.

"You're not a demon, are you?"

Lucio stopped dead and raised his hands, the stone beneath him rising up to surround him in a defensive barrier. However, the only thing around was a small mouse. Which soon changed to become a man, a mage if robes meant anything. "They threw you to the wolves, too, eh?" the man asked. When Lucio refused to speak, or even let his stone barrier fall, the man continued. "Name's Mouse. Not originally, of course. Been here so long I can't remember who I used to be. It isn't fair, what the Templars are doing, is it?"

Before Mouse could get another word out, a fist of stone flew from Lucio's stone cage and slammed into his chest. Mouse hit a wall hard, and fell to the ground. As he tried to stand, one of the stone slabs that had served as a wall for Lucio rammed him back up against the wall. A small, whining sound came from the man as Lucio allowed his barrier to fall, and concentrated his efforts on keeping Mouse between the stone slab and the wall. "I don't know what you are or your angle," Lucio began, sounding much darker and far more serious than he ever had before, "but I'm not going to trust you just to be stabbed in the back." And with that, the ground beneath Mouse shut up like a rocket, carrying the man up and away into the Fade. At the angle Lucio shot, he shouldn't land back near him. Even if he did, he shouldn't survive the landing.

With that little distraction gone, Lucio continued on. He had no doubt that whatever that thing had been, it was a demon. And even if it was a mage, what's to say it wasn't being used by a demon to lull him into a false sense of security? Either way, Lucio felt no remorse for launching Mouse into oblivion.

The next area passed by a small arena, lit by fires. At the moment, the way in was inaccessible. Perhaps that was where he was meant to face his demon, in the end. Must be other tests to pass, he thought, then continued on. A small wisp appeared and began to attack him. The little bolt hurt, but nothing like an arrow or a blade. In a moment, the wisp was encased in stone and crushed. He continued on, and came to a crossroads. He cast out his mind, and felt the presences beyond. One seemed to be a bit more benevolent, while the other was lethargic and dark. Opting for the path most taken, he began the journey towards the benevolent presence.

At the end, there was a small rise, and on top of it there was a glowing white being, armored and surrounded by weapons. He would inspect one, then put it on a rack. After a moment, he would create another, inspect it, and place it on another rack. Lucio climbed up the rise, and the spirit greeted him with a raise of the hand. "Ho there, friend!" it called out. "It has been a long time since one of your kind has graced my home. A cowardly affair, sending a mage in defenseless against a demon. They should pit you against your equals instead, and let the victor join your order."

Lucio shrugged. "It might be cowardly for the Templars, but that is of no concern to me," Lucio countered. "I am looking for aid to combat the demon. I see you have several weapons here, and I was wondering if I could use one to slay the creature."

"Yes, my weapons would work well against it. However, you must earn one of my weapons in a duel."

"Of course," Lucio responded, the sarcasm practically dripping off of his tongue. "Why would you want to fight me? You said yourself, I am practically defenseless against the denizens of this world. So, what, are you really a demon?"

"W-What? Preposterous!"

"Then prove that you are a benevolent spirit, and give me a blade to defend myself!"

The spirit stood there silent for a moment, then nodded. It turned and rustled around his weapons, and then produced a pristine looking longsword. He presented it to Lucio, who took the sword and gave a low bow. "Thank you, sir spirit," Lucio said. "I will return this to you, if I can." The spirit nodded, and turned away to resume his business of creating weapons. Lucio backed away, and then turned and hurried back the way he had come. Now that he had a weapon, perhaps he could get past the wall of fire to reach the arena.

As he passed by the crossroads again, a thought occurred to him. Perhaps, the creature he was to face was the dark presence he had felt the other way. Well, if that was the case, he would return. First, he needed to check out the arena, though. He was almost certain that his enemy was there, waiting for him. In a few minutes, he reached the area, and the fires that had barred his path before was gone. Lucio entered, brandishing his sword, allowing the flow of magic to travel through it and enhance its power further. In the center of the arena, a flaming demon burst from the ground, growling and screaming in anger. A demon of rage, if Lucio remembered correctly.

"Ah, so another meal has come to me," it said, sounding surprisingly calm for a demon of anger. "And where is my little friend Mouse, hm? Do away with him, already?" Lucio did not respond, but assumed a battle stance, the earth beneath him beginning to shake and rumble. The demon growled angrily again, then lunged forward. The ground burst upwards, shards of earth and stone flying to slice and cut it. A roar escaped it, and it backed away. Fires burst up around Lucio, but were blocked by a wall of stone. Lucio dashed forward, a dark green aura forming around the spectral sword. The demon surged forth as well, but it slammed right into the sword.

The demon practically melted down, forming into a pool of good. The pool then evaporated, leaving the smell of brimstone and sulfur in the air. Lucio looked up to the sky, rose his hands, and yelled, "Well? Is that it? The dreaded Harrowing!?" He swore, and slammed the sword into the ground. What a waste of time. No challenge, no real threat other than a brief moment. Rage demons were too easy to fight. They only knew how to charge headfirst into their enemies, which would always lead to a defeat.

"Do you believe yourself to be a master for killing a demon like that?"

Lucio whirled around, only to be faced by Mouse. Lucio glared at it, then shook his head. He was no fool. Any competent apprentice could kill a rage demon. It was no accomplishment worth noting. "It was a trivial task because it was a weak demon, not through any skill of my own," Lucio responded. "A demon of rage is a foolish creature, and easily beaten. That could not have been the test that I was sent here to face." Lucio narrowed his eyes at Mouse, knowing that he knew what his real challenge was.

Mouse spoke again, though this time his voice was much deeper than before. "That is true. Not every enemy can be defeated with brute force alone, like that fool Valor would believe. The real dangers of the Fade - preconceptions, careless trust, pride - are what one must be truly wary of. You would not trust me, nor believe that the spirit of Valor was benevolent. You did not even challenge the other being that inhabits this area of the Fade." Mouse began to shift and transform, growing much larger. A demon of pride, the most powerful of their kind, stood in the place of the little man. "Trust only yourself in this place, mage. And keep your wits about you. True tests never end." The demon that was Mouse waved its hand, and Lucio felt himself flung from the Fade, shooting back towards his body.

The Harrowing was over, but Lucio believed what the demon had said. The test would never end.