"What in the world---!"
A man questioned before Anaan plunged the knife into the man's neck causing a gush of blood on the man's bodyguards before they could even retaliate. Anaan dropped a smoke bomb in the confusion, rushed into the two befuddled guards with his massive body, knocking them down; giving him enough to time to get away.

He ran down the empty back streets of Kirkwall hightown, making twists and turns to lose the bloodied bodyguards. After he felt it was safe to stop running he looked back, nobody, no sounds. It was safe. The giant sighed, he never liked taking a life, no matter how vile, and it was just a waste. But he could at least take solace in that he will have enough coin to last the week.

A noise could be heard from down the street. Today was a good day to take out that man for today was the day for the new grand Cleric of Kirkwall to open the new chantry in place of the last one where it was destroyed during the rebellion. And the new grand cleric was controversial to say the least, both in views and origins, as she was elven woman from the alienage, it was rather controversial alone for her to become a mother but the Divine picked her unlike the many other mothers who were in the chantry much longer then her. Many of the chantry mothers and lay sisters despised the idea and even asked the divine to rethink her decision, anyone that knows the new divine knows that that was a terrible mistake. Nobody ever found them.

But the chantry courtyard was full of people, it was about an even mix of cheers and booing, he can sneak by easily, even with his tall stature. Anaan put on his hood and sneak through the back of the crowd. Which was getting rowdy as the people were either trying to see the new grand cleric or yell slurs and insults in attempt to be heard.

When he got to the gates of the chantry area it was blocked by a thick wall of armed guards. Looks like he can’t leave right now, he might as well see this new Grand Cleric when he‘s here.

He found a corner to hide away until he can leave and with his height he can get a decent look of the chantry announcement platform from where he was. He leaned on the wall and looked over the crowd.

The odd duo stood on the sidelines of the throng of people awaiting to see the new grand cleric be it for good or ill intentions. The city still remained in a state of disarray from the events that led to the inquisition and still a heat bed of controversy. However with strict restrictions had come opportunities and that was where the partners in crime came into view. Everyone wanted something that they could not have and that was the pair's job, to sneak it what those people wanted. Along with the side job of being mercenaries, it was a business opportunity that neither could pass up.

They had met up in Kirkwall, both outcasts who became good friends after some fighting and a few mugs of awful mead. They had become some of the best smugglers in Kirkwall, with Gavlan's knowledge of trade and valuables, Gavlan's strength, and Zeyneps magic they could get their hands on just about anything that someone may want brought into the City of Chains without the guard's notice, for a fee of course.

"They gather like sheep and for what? to praise or insult someone that will pay them little interest," Zeynep said in annoyance watching the people gather ",It is a fruitless endeavor."

"That may be lass but people look for guidance. Funny how chaos creates order which only creates more chaos," Gavlan answered his counterpart ",Now stop staring at them and keep your eyes open for our guy, he wants his goods, he needs to pay us and I can't see through that crowd of people with my size."

Zeynep smirked at her partner."Must I then go find a box for you then so you can see?" She asked getting the dwarf to grumble some curse under his mouth and replying ",No but do tell me what the weather is like when you get the chance. If it rains I want to know so I can go in doors still dry."

The two's banter was all in good fun as they waited for their buyer. A place with so many people made it easy for them as well as the buyer to make a quick disappearance even if the two stuck out like sore thumbs amongst all the humans in the city.

Panril let out a sigh as she allowed herself to rest momentarily, leaning against a pillar of crates she had spent the last few hours sorting, stamping, and stacking. She moved her hands in front of her hands, wincing as she unwrapped the strips of linen bound around them. Throughout the day she was susceptible to getting cuts and splinters, to the point where she had to eventually start wrapping her hands. She exhaled sharply as she yanked a long chip of wood out of her palm.

Panril didn't pride herself on her ability to make friends, she normally kept to herself. But she did find herself enjoying the company of the other elven dock workers. Maybe because they could all get together during their meager breaks and complain about their bosses. It also made the walk back to the alienage a lot safer, humans are more likely to fight a single elf then an entire group. Panril turned the splinter over in her palm for a moment, before holding it up to show one of the elves next to her.

The dark haired elf laughed as he picked up the splinter, holding it out away from his face and gripping the piece of wood with his thumb and index fingers.

“Ya know Panny, if you squint a little...” He paused, narrowing his eyes, “It kinda looks like the harbor masters nose.”

The other elves, Panril included, burst out laughing as the elf put the splinter up against his face. He stood up, taking up a slouchy and bitter stance. He cleared his throat a few times, as if asking for silence.

“Hey! Knife-Ears!” He grunted out, imitating the boss. “Get back to work! I'm not paying you to braid your hair!”

The elves laughed again.

The dark haired elf sat down again, tossing the splinter into the dark waters below. Another elf, a girl with bright green eyes, sat down behind Panril. She began to braid her silver hair, as if to make a point, as Panril rebound her hands. The green eyed elf scratched at her face for a moment, her skin feeling irritated under cheaply done vallaslin, before continuing with skilled fingers.

A feeling of tranquility fell over the city elves.

Once the elves shifts ended for the day they lined up outside of the harbor masters office, each received a single copper piece, and then were on their way. The group of them began to walk home, towards the alienage, but Panril lagged behind a bit. The green eyed elf noticed this, and broke away from the pack to walk alongside Panril.

"What's eating you Ma Vhenan?"

"There is a new Grand Cleric being inaugurated today..." Panril began, only to be cut off by her dark haired friend who was currently trying to balance his copper piece on his nose.

"I never really pegged you as a religious type Panny, especially a Shem religion type."

Panril interrupted him this time, pointing. "Yes! Exactly! The weird thing is that the new Grand Cleric is an elf, from our very alienage! It just seems too weird not to check out myself."

At this point the group had stopped walking, allowing Panril to take a detour to the Chantry part of Hightown while the rest went on to the alienage. The green eyed elf pressed a quick kiss into Panril's cheek before hurrying home.

The lone elf forgot how scary it was to walk alone through the streets of Hightown. She was an easy target, a target that many wouldn't feel sad to see go. She wondered if it would be worse once she got to the chantry. If the crowd turned violent would she be hurt? It was too late to turn back now, as she found herself moving to the back of the crowd. She swallowed thickly, eyes darting around nervously.

In Orlais you could never go far enough to escape the influence of the Chantry. In Val Royeaux the two towers of the Grand Cathedral dominate the skyline for miles and throughout the countryside smaller chapels dot the landscape. It was said that you were never too far from the Maker's grace a fact that Orlesian's take much pride in for it was Kordillus Drakon I of Orlais that founded the Chantry, and not some other backwater nation. The Chantry's close connection with the royalty promotes close connections between the aristocratic class and their reverence to the holy faith. This another facet of The Game in which those who donate the most coin out of pocket in donations get things done for them easier. It was because of this fact that Freyan was most acquainted with the Chantry.

One could have almost called Freyan devote in his beliefs as such things come easier when you raised among the heart of it. He remembered the times as a young boy that his family would travel to the Grand Cathedral to hear the words of the Grand Cleric or maybe even if they were lucky the Divine. The Cathedral was an astonishing sight to a young mind: glided white walls stretching into the sky, the Chant of Light almost emitting from deep within the building, the opulent banners and the hundreds of people. But the memories he held the most were of Sister Aurore telling him and the other children about Andraste's campaign against the Tevinter Imperium. It was in these stories of heroics and great battle that one could trace the young man's own desires to become a hero.

But Orlais seemed ages away from the City of Chains. Since he had arrived in Kirkwall after his contract with the Margrave of Ansburg had ended his hands had been rather busy. Through the steady march of the years he had gotten used to the switching of cities and the life of a vagabond always looking for work but it was always hard: making a name for one's self, finding a place to stay, finding work. In the beginning it was always hard. When you were busy killing raiders, catching thieves, and rescuing children who fell down wells you had little time to pray to the Maker and thank him for your good fate. In his disillusionment with the Chevaliers he had begun to doubt most of the things of his childhood and even at times his faith in the Maker. For if the Maker was real why would he let all the terrible things he had seen? In short finding him watching the anointing of a new Chantry was the last place you'd expect to see him.

Yet sometimes the melodic calling of coins falling within a purse was too much. He would like to say that it was a job and nothing else. He would like to say that only because the Viscount was hiring out extra muscle that he was there. He would like to say that the money was too good to turn down, which it was. But somewhere deep inside of him he had a sort of morbid curiosity about the whole event. The Kirkwall Chantry had a... troubled history to say the least and Divine Victoria new choice of Grand Cleric would not help the matter. The Viscont knew this and which is why he also hired a few mercenaries as well as the City Guard just to add another layer of protection. Freyan could not blame him as it was never bad to be prepared for violence. Judging from the mixture of reverent faces and hateful slurs Hightown was primed to explode.

So Freyan stood near the announcement dais just far enough away to not draw attention but close enough to leap into the fray to Protect the Grand Cleric if it came to that. To say that he stood out would be a bit of an understatement covered in full Chevalier's plate that shined when the sun hit it correctly. He had what one might call an intimidating figure with his sharp eyes focused with concentration. Some might of knew him as the ex- Chevalier had begun to make a name for himself as the man you want too when you needed your problems resolved. But if they did recognize him they did little to acknowledge him and Freyan almost preferred it that way. His own mind was going over several different worst case scenarios as sweat beacme to trickle down his forehead; Maker's Breath it was hot and the heavy plate was not doing him any favors in that department, but he did little to show any signs of discomfort. Though he did wish for the ceremony to begin just so that it could end.

The new Grand Cleric's inauguration had drawn quite a crowd of spectators. They filled the Chantry courtyard and, even as they all watched the Elven woman on the raised platform in front of the the Chantry doors, they were in turn watched. By the City Guard, the Viscount's mercenaries, and, of course, dozens of Templars. The inauguration of such a controversial Grand Cleric was not something to be taken lightly and they weren't taking any chances with security. Only a fool would be stupid enough to try anything while down there in the courtyard, which is exactly why Viela was not in the courtyard.

She watched the events unfolding beneath her from a vantage point in the shadows, high up on the Chantry roof, from an eave overlooking the courtyard. From her perch she looked down on the elven woman in her religious garb and felt nothing. She understood why the client had requested an elf carry out the contract, a human assassin would turn the woman into a martyr, but if it were to be an elf who carried out the deed then the Chantry would likely just crack back down on elves everywhere. Viela knew this, and still felt nothing. She had no loyalty to her own kind, her own kind had sold her to the Crows in the first place, and she wasn't exactly Andrastian either. Death was the only god that Viela believed in. This was a contract, nothing more.

The proceedings began down below and a chorus of cheers and jeers reached Viela up in her perch. The elven assassin stood up and drew her daggers. The contract was clear: It had to be public. Viela stood up from her perch and, taking a breath to steady herself for what was to come, she dropped down onto the platform, between a pair of armored Templars. Even as they turned to look at her, still unaware of the danger she represented she drove her daggers up under their helmets, straight through the underside of their chins and into their brains. The holy knights dropped instantly and cries of shock, horror and outrage came from the crowd.

Viela was now well and truly the centre of attention and she could see guards closing on all sides. The closest threat came from the other two Templars standing on the other side of the new Grand Cleric, who had also turned to stare at her. As the Templars charged forward to get between Viela and her target, drawing their swords, the assassin leapt forward and ducked a sword blow from one, sliding a dagger through a point in the man's armor under his outstretched arm. As she withdrew the dagger she threw her weight into a kick, pushing the dying Templar into his comrade with caused them both to tumble off the platform and into the crowd. Viela turned on the Grand Cleric and leapt towards her, driving the woman to the ground with her knees, where she knelt atop her, and raised her dagger for the killing blow.

"There are too many damn oxmen in the city now. You would think that we were in Par Vollen!" A rather stout bearded man complained to a scrawny, balding fellow who sat next him at the bar, both seemed quite infatuated with the mugs in front of them and by the looks of it this had been the case for hours. "Yeah, the grey bastards everywhere nowadays, even that inquisitor bloke was one of 'em." The thinner of the two men said in a voice that could easily been mistaken for a nug attempting a war cry. The two men then exchanged a mutual grunt of distain before taking a swig of whatever swill that was being served that night at Lowtown's famous, or rather infamous, Hanged man tavern.

"I swear more in more of 'em are showing up everyday. Think they might try and take the city again?" The bearded man said in a rough voice, whatever he was drinking was obviously strong as he was looking pretty flustered from just that one swig. The twig of a man let out a snort, obviously not impressed with the idea of a Qunari invasion. "Bah! After the last time we thrashed them they will think twice before starting more trouble like that. By Andraste I would like to see them start something. I would-"

"You would do what may I ask?" A deep voice said from behind the two men, causing the thinner one to jump up slightly from his seat and spill his mug all over himself. The two would then and be greeted by the sight of a mountain of a Qunari standing before them, his hulking arms crossed in front of his massive chest. "I-I-I uh...." Was all the little man could manage to say, which caused the so called oxman to smirk slightly. "As impressive and intimidating as babbling as like a idiot may be I doubt it will do much against a Qunari." The towering horned man said as he stepped closer to the two men, causing them to lean back into the bar.

"Though my Qun fallowing kinsmen may be rather simple and brutish to say the least, they can more than handle the likes of you two." The Qunari continued, a mixture of terror and nervousness came to both of the men's faces. The Qunari then bent down slightly to bring himself to eye level of the two. "Though I am not a follower myself I do have a certain respect for the Qun and its teachings methods. Such as cutting out the tongues of those who speak such slander as you do." He said with a wicked grin on his face and a slight laugh. With that the two men quickly stood from their seats and proceeded to run from the tavern as if the blight itself was chasing them.

With another laugh the giant Qunari turned to the barkeep and bowed his head. "I am sorry good sire, but I am not one to take stupidity such as theirs to lightly." He said before pulling out a few copper pieces and paying for the drinks the men left abandoned at the bar.

Leaving the bar the Qunari proceeded to head towards the exit that would take him out of Lowtown and into the bustling streets of Hightown. "Well Katari lets see what all this nonsense about a new Grand Cleric is about." He spoke to himself as he began to climb the stairs.

The smell of piss, ale, vomit and smoke was rather strong in the tavern known as the Hanged Man. But it was something that Brea wouldn't change, as it kept those who were of the law away. Well most of the time, on occasion the guard would come but then it was mostly to relax and drink.

Brea had been in Kirkwall for only a month or so and so far she loved it. Even with all its history and bitterness towards minorities. It was an exciting place to live and so far no one was hounding her for being a mage. That was a problem in all the other places she had stayed, once they found out she was a mage they would run her out. Even with the new divine "freeing" mages not many people liked it and would still force them out of towns and villages. Cities were a little different, they would tolerate mages being around, but there was still some that would make their distrust known.

"Want another drink Brea?" Asked the bartender as he wiped the bar. Not that wiping the bar cleaned it from all grime that built up over the years. Smiling sweetly she shook her head, her smile seemed to make him blush which made her smile grow a little. She had only know Jar for two weeks but he seemed like a nice guy, a honest man. Well as honest as one would expect a bartender to be.

"So Jar, what's happening in the city?" She asked as she nursed her drink. She wasn't one for gossip but she felt talking, at least for a bit. Jar gave her a dumbfounded look as if he couldn't believe what she just asked. "Well there's that thing with the new cleric, that's big news ya know." Jar said sounding a surprised and slight teasing. Brea rolled her eyes as she leaned on the dirty counter. Of course she knew about that, that news had been on everyone's lips for weeks if not months. "I know that silly, but anything else I should know? Anything new?" She asked playfully. She knew she was flirting, but then if she didn't Jar would of never have given her some of his best ale for half the cost. Of course he said she was the only one he did that for, but she was sure any cute girl that walked through those doors and batted their eyes at him got to his best stock.

"Not much news except that. Everything else just isn't that note worthy." He said with a small sigh.

Sighing herself, she looked around the tavern and took note of all the drunks, gamblers, and shifty people. All these people took the time of the inauguration of the cleric to make deals and side deals as the guard and all other authorities were at the chantry ready to protect the new cleric. It was a good time for getting business done and making deals. That was when she noticed a qunari sitting in the shadows. He looked rather intimidating but then most qunari looked that way. She watched as he sat there then turned to the drunks that didn't seem to notice that he was there. How they didn't notice the huge mass was beyond her, as a blind nug could see him. She laughed slightly when the two men stumbled and babbled at the qunari's question.

"I am sorry good sire, but I am not one to take stupidity such as theirs to lightly." The qunari said before tossing Jar a few coppers for the drinks.

Jar nodded and as soon as the qunari was out of the building he mumbled something about a damned oxmen. Brea shook her head, she didn't like people talking about others like they were dirt. "Come now Jar, not all qunari are bad." She said as she sipped her drink.
"You weren't here when those damned oxmen took over the city." Jar said bitterly as he wiped the bar top again.

Shaking her head again, she dug into her coin purse to pay for her drink but Jar shook his head. "Thanks Jar, see ya later." She said as she blew him a kiss and hurried out the tavern. She looked around and noticed how eerily quiet the streets were, it felt wrong as if it foretold something was going to happen. On the up side though it made finding the huge qunari easy.

She had no idea why she wanted to follow the large mass of muscle, all she knew was that there was something about him that peeked her interest. She kept some distance from him, but he was always within sight. Thank the Maker that he is tall. She thought as she followed him up to High Town and to the new Chantry.

The day in Kirkwall was hot and standing in the sea of crowded people doesn't necessarily help his situation, but what choice did he really have? It was he either this or go with some of the expeditions that were delving into the Deep Roads. He took the protection work because it was easier plus he has never been inside the Deep Roads before, but the stories and rumors he was told of them didn't make him too eager to go exploring them anytime soon. Colt never really was a person to believe in religion or to get into the gossip and rumors of political disputes. The coin, the drink, the company of women, and the thrill of excitement was his only concern.

This is completely dull, more dull then the time I had to watch over the cage pen full Dracolisk. At least I could have a bit of interest in it and ride them from time to time.Colt thought as he pulled over his hooded cloak to block out the sun from his sight as he looked on amongst the crowd. Nonetheless, he decided to take the job since it was the only decent paying one he could find as of late. He was to stand in the midst of the crowd with a few other hired mercenaries that were disguised and keep watch over the crowd of any threats that sought harm to the new Grand Cleric. Colt never really was a person to believe in religion or to get into the gossip and rumors of political disputes. The coin, the drink, the company of women, and the thrill of excitement was his only concern.

Though if the time came to a point were it affected his steady flow of coin then things would start to turn rather dicey for anyone who clogged it up for him. The crowd was in awe and in dismay towards the feelings of the new Grand Cleric, especially since she was an Elf from within the city's own walls. "Has Divine Victoria and the Chantry as a whole gone mad?! A Knife-Ear as Grand Cleric?!" spoke a weathered man dressed in seemingly pricey attire. "This is rather quite the sight don'cha think? a wee elf as the Grand Cleric? I can tell ya you don't see that every day." a bulky dwarf man to his right said.

More and more opinions of hateful scowls and wishful praises of the Grand Cleric were lowly spoken, some bluntly spoken aloud with no shame which resulted in a few scuffles then being removed from the area entirely. Soon after a few more heated moments and a few more spoken words the ceremony started. Well it's about time! Colt said to himself slightly annoyed by the wait.

Descending down the steps, accompanied by Templar Knights keeping close to her side, was the Grand Cleric. Colt couldn't really see her from the back of the crowd, but he knew that now he needed to be vigilant and ready to hit his mark should things go south as he gripped his bow in hand. Though as he began to scan and move along the back of the crowd as mixed cheers and boos filled the air, he spotted someone alone that was atop the chantry roof and drop down behind the Grand Cleric and her emissary of guards. Looks like this party just got interesting. Colt smiled as he now started to move quickly between the crowd. "Clear a path!" Colt shouted as he started to run through people. If the Grand Cleric died then so did his pay. Colt was not going to let that happen on his accord. The people were now in shock as they witnessed the assassin move with expert skill as they easily defeated the Knights with them not landing a single scathing mark on the assassin.

He started forcefully pushing his way through the throng of still people, but at the rate he was going the Grand Cleric would be dead even with him nearing her. So with quick thinking, a plan that would surely bound to get anyone to try this stunt killed, he spotted a fairly tall Qunari and used them as a stepping stone. "Excuse me, but I need you kind folks for a moment." Keeping his running momentum he first jumped atop a dwarf's head, then a woman's head, then boosted himself off of a Qunari's head while he knocking an arrow to the bow and aimed as best he could at the assassin who just pinned the Grand Cleric to the ground. Never shot mid-air, but here goes nothing! said to himself as he let the lone arrow loose soaring towards his mark.

Acaela had always wondered what the world was like...and Kirkwall was obviously a bad city to visit it looked gloomy, dark, and the atmosphere was too tense to handle without at least gulping twenty times. The Chantry was introducing one of the Grand Clerics, that seemingly everyone opposed. She wondered if it was an elf, because an elf plus a woman equals bad shit is going to go down at some point. Tugging her satchel and ignoring her running thoughts. The city of Kirkland felt hostile and even if there were guards that lurked around the streets it still felt unsafe, almost as if anything could happen. " Wonder if I can go on the roofs? " She was blindly heading towards the Chantry and needed a higher view to get there. Scanning the surroundings she found a wooden ladder conveniently placed in the middle of two buildings. " This is a bad...idea. "

The wood was breaking! Acaela grabbed the roofs ledge right before the ladder fell to pieces, " Fuuck... " She groaned pulling her self up onto the roof. " Wooow...! " She hummed standing on the flat roof clearly seeing the Chantry from two miles away. Carefully jumping her way through the roof, doing it in the seemingly unprofessional way. Rogues or some sort of assassins have ease with this stuff but not a healer. Breathing, this stuff takes a lot of stamina! she groaned, only two buildings away but her legs hurt like hell! The Chantry seemed to be filled, guards surrounding the entrance to it.

" Chaos... " The crowd began screaming, guards falling to there deaths as the cluster of people began escaping the scene. She walked towards the edge of the roof there was absolutely no support to get down. Biting her lip she points her staffs tip on the walls side, not worried since most were too distracted by the scene that enacted from the Chantries courtyard. Her grip tightened against the staff, cold air began to cluster at the staffs tip. The cold air seemingly pulsing with dim blue light. A beam was created, strands of light and air shot towards at the wall, icicles began form and thus she began changing the positions of the staff the beam cascading down the wall.

It was extremely slow...for her at least, medium sized icicles were formed against the wall and seemingly no one mind. This oddly felt normal to just climb down an icicle ladder...that seemed impossible, but it wasn't. She shuddered, cold air emitting from the icicles, water already dripping from them so...she had to hurry. Acaela was beginning to climb down, the icicles were slippery. Her feet met the ground, finally! She cheered, almost forgetting about her main plan...helping people!

There's no turning back now, as she entered the courtyard of the Chantry she saw very few guards and at least 5 or 4 people fighting back....

Panril watched in horror as the events unfolded. She felt dizzy all of a sudden, watching as the assassin easily defeated the guards around the new Grand Cleric and made moves to take her out next. She wondered if all of this was planned. Humans trying to remind the elves were they belonged, bleeding to death on the ground. Panril had allowed her hopes to get up, feeling as if there was a possibility that one of her own had been accepted into society. The shouts and boos and cheers of the crowd around her seemed to fade into nothing more then static. She had to remind herself to breathe.

Things only seemed to get worse as Panril realized what the assassin was. An elf. It was pretty easy to tell. She was too big to be a dwarf, and too small to be qunari. And humans rarely got that dexterous. But having and elf assassinate another elf, one who was about to be grand cleric no less, made Panril feel nauseous. Any support this grand cleric had from the humans was about to be lost, and morphed back into blind hatred.

She swallowed thickly, looking frantically around the crowd. She might be able to slip away before the crowd got any more frantic and violent. Currently most of the guards were dead on the ground or trying to apprehend the assassin. Others were trying to control the crowd. She worried that if things got worse, if the crowd got more chaotic, it would spread to the alienage. But as Panril turned, hoping to find a way out of the crowd as well as not have to watch the grand cleric meet her end, she was hit in the gut by an elbow.

Panril hunched over slightly, finding the wind knocked out of her and was the shoved out of the way by a human who was trying to get himself away from the dangerous elven assassin. Panril snarled, gritting her teeth as she resisted the urge to punch the man back. But if she attracted attention to herself things would only get worse. Dock workers were not permitted to carry weapons, especially elven dock workers, so she would have no chance against a guard if they caught her starting trouble.

Viela looked down at the Grand Cleric as she raised her dagger high over her head. The woman's face didn't show any fear. Viela was about to bring the dagger down when she noticed a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. Reacting on instinct, the elven assassin reversed her grip on the dagger and swiped the arrow out of the air a moment before it would've hit her. This was bad. She'd only had a small window of opportunity to begin with and every second she wasted, the guards were closing in. Viela turned back to the Grand Cleric and caught sight of a strange glint in her eyes.

Viela felt a surprising flash of pain as the Grand Cleric's palm was thrust upwards, straight into the underside of her chin. Viela stumbled backwards, shocked by this turn of events. The platform vibrated under the impact of armored boots and Viela spun, readying her blades. Her time was up. Guards charged the stage, swords drawn. Viela reached into her belt and withdrew a small chemical vial, which she tossed at the feet of the leading guard. The vial exploded into a noxious cloud of smoke that enveloped the elf and the first few guards.

A sword came swinging through the smoke and Viela ducked the swipe, lashing out at the source. She moved through the smoke, staying low. She saw a boot and kicked out at it, tripping the owner. She dodged another blind sword strike and leapt out the smoke, exploding into daylight only to find herself facing an armored fist coming straight for her. The world flashed white and Viela found herself flying off the platform and into the crowd. Dazed and winded, she tried to get up but was restrained by a boot on her chest and a sword point against her throat. She looked up at the guard standing over her and smiled, dropping her daggers and holding out her empty hands. "Well, you got me!" She said cheerfully.

"What in the name of ancestors!" Gavlan stated as someone used his head as a stepping stone. Zeynep was fortunate enough to avoid being used as a sidewalk. It caught her off guard, making her unable to try and grab the person who had stepped on her friend and before she could get a glimpse of who had done it, all hell seem to break loose. Something was going on in the front near the stage but even with Zeynep's taller stature she could not see what was going on in the chaos. Luckily for both of them they were still near the edges of the crowd and were able to retreat out of the chaos.

"At least I wasn't wearing my helmet," Gavlan grumbled once out of the fray ",Or else it would probably be stuck. I don't need that to happen again. Probably was a knife-ear, no human is that nimble, and a dwarf knows better to keep both his feet on the ground. A qunari, well you probably would break someones neck."

"Oh ha-ha, perhaps we should test it," Zeynep joked and looked back to where the action was taking place ",Should we try to see what is happening?"

"Nah to many guards, probably get arrested. Better to just see the culprit. Plus we might still have a small chance to run into our buyer, if they weren't spooked after that," Gavlan said ",Could you catch who stepped on me." Zeynep replied with a shake of her head, getting the dwarf to give a disappointed sigh."Shame he would of gotten to meet Luca if you had seen who it was," Gavlan added touching the hilt of the axe on his back.

As chaos erupted in the Chantry courtyard, Freyan moved into action quickly. It seemed the Viscounts hunch had been correct though to be honest Freyan did not expect the assassin to be an elf. That would complicate diplomatic matters in the long run indeed. The man in armor bounded up to the raised platform soon after the Grand Cleric had dealt with her own assassin. He quickly dropped into a defensive stance as he looked around for another assassin hiding the crowd. But he picked out nothing still remaining there as a Templar rushed over to help the Grand Cleric to her feet as two Sisters moved over to help the Cleric's fallen guards. Freyan wanted to tell them that it was hopeless and that the Assassin had been extremely precise in her killing blows. But he said nothing, it would not help the matter and their busy hands would stay the tides of grief if only for a little bit. Such depravity in front of the House of the Maker it told of the times and almost made Freyan sick as he turned to where the Assassin had gone down. There was much chaos as a group of very angry Templars rushed over to deal with the assassin pushing the city guard out of the way as they voiced their protest. Freyan after making sure the Grand Cleric was being taking care of moved away from her and towards this growing group of people.

When he arrived at the group the Templars and the guards were arguing with one another. From what Freyan could gather the holy knights wanted to execute the assassin for such a heinous act while the guards wanted to bring her through the proper channels. Swift justice was a thing that Freyan could appreciate but he wondered if emotions were flying too high at the moment. Sure, the assassin had tried to kill a holy figure which is generally frowned upon in society but she didn't succeeded did she? So killing her... wouldn't that just make them more murderers than she was? Heroes didn't go around stabbing people, no that wouldn't be right. Freyan pondered this predicament in his head as he pushed through the group towards the front just as things had begun to become heated. One of the Templars had pushed the guard that was restraining off of the assassin and had placed his own heavy iron boot upon his chest. He drew his sword and called out to the rest around him with a strong conviction in his voice. "If you spineless fools won't deal with this traitorous knife-ear wretch, I will in the name of the Maker!"

The other Templar cheered as their fellow raised his sword high above his head bringing it down with the intent to separate the assassins head from her body. Before the guards could jump in and before the Templar could finish his deed he let out a strangled cry of pain. Everyone turned in surprise as seemingly out of nowhere a large pointed chain had embedded itself into the man's shoulder. Freyan had not thought about what he was doing he only reacted on training that wad drilled into him after years of action and response. He did not think his actions through as he dragged the man forward pulling his sword away from the assassin and brought his shield up slamming it into the side of the man's face dropping him to the ground like a heavy sack of vegetables. Freyan pulled the chain out of the man's arm and walked towards the assassin standing beside her as he turned to explain himself to the authorities. he authorities who know guard and Templar alike had there swords raised and pointed at him, a stranger who had just assaulted a man of the faith in defense of an assassin.... oh this was bad.

"Now listen gentlemen.... we don't need to do anything drastic here." He called out trying to appease them in his thick Orlesian accent but they did not seem like the type to listen to reason. He looked down at the elven assassin beneath him and back to the advancing guards. Freyan had done exactly what he always did, by trying to be the hero he had only dug himself deeper in a hole. Quickly he crouched down shield still raised as he grabbed the assassin by the scruff of her neck and lifted her off the ground and too her feet. Drawing his sword he took a step backwards and looking for an opening in the crowd as he did he whispered in a low voice that only the elf and anybody right by them would of been able to hear. "So milady... Any bright ideas?"

"Hmm a stampede of screaming terrified people? That is always a sign of something interesting is up ahead." Katari said with a dry smirk as the panicked herd raced past him, some stumbling as they ran into the montain of a Qunari. Making his way through the sea of chaos was quite easy given that people either simply ran around him out of fear or were pushed out of his way simply by his size. "Must be something quite exciting to cause this much of a stir. Maybe a dragon attacked, that would be quite fun to see." He chuckled to himself as he started to reach the end of the seemingly never ending stream of people. Katari was honestly kind of disappointed by what he came upon, it was just an assassination attempt, how drool. With a slight sigh he walked forward to get a better look over the situation. Just from a quick scan he was able to guess that the assassin almost succeeded in their job, seeing as quite a few Templars laid dead upon the stage where the Grand Cleric was suppose to be giving her speech. And judging from the guards and Templars surrounding the elf and man brandishing his blade the assassin, or rather assassins, had yet to leave. "My you Free Marchers make quite crumby assassins." He spoke aloud to himself, though more than likely the dwarf and fellow Qunari heard him.

Zeynep became tense for a moment seeing another Qunari. Even after all the time from Par Vollen, she remained wary around her own kind, even the those that called themselves Tal Vashoth. She could not take the chance one might be from Qunandar here to kill her or send her back to a life barely more fit then that of a mabari. She cursed herself mentally and told herself to relax, she doubt a qunari agent would enter Kirkwall, not with what had happened only a few years before, people would notice, still even Tal Vashoth were to be wary of.

"An assassin? Haven't had that much action here since the war began," Gavlan said being the first to break the brief silence ",I must say that the Carta of Orzammar could do a much better job, and there is hardly an assassin amongst them. It is not our business to know what others do though, shame that our buyer seems to of bugger off. So Zeynep what do you say we head back to Lowtown, if the wretch wants his stuff, he knows where to find us."

Zeynep had kept her eyes on the fellow Qunari all the while Gavlan had spoke. When she heard her name she looked down at her companion."Sure, it will also mean you will keep your trap shut while you drink," she smirked getting a laugh out of Gavlan.

Panril watched with wide eyes and mouth agape as the Grand Cleric fought back and the assassin was caught. It was hard to see the action through the pushing crowd and the dissipating smoke, but the guards had apprehended the assassin. Panril swallowed as the elven women dropped her blades and seemed to surrender, but Panril knew better then to believe that the battle was so easily won. Even with a blade pressed into her throat the assassin was smiling, making Panril realize that she likely had a back up plan. Maybe more assassins hiding in the shadows, waiting for a perfect moment to strike. With such a big target it would have been foolish to send only one assassin.

For some reason she was having some sort of morality debate in her head. She wanted the assassin to be killed, anyone to attempted to stab the grand cleric deserved death, and yet she felt the urge to leap out of the crowd and beg for the assassins life. Was it because she was an elf? Or because assassins normally did what they had to to survive?

She stood up slightly straighter when she watched the human pull the other Templars off the assassin. So she wasn't the only one who was thinking of her life. By now most of the crowd had run off, those who remained kept far away from the action. Hightowners nervously clutching their bulging coin purses. Panril took a deep breath, taking a step towards the assassin and the chantry members. She called out to them, trying to sound brave.

"Please messeres! Please show the elf mercy! Mercy messeres!"

She tried not to sound like she was begging, hoping she could appeal to them. Her knowledge of Shem religion was a bit rusty, but she knew enough.

"This is an opportunity to show her the love of the Maker! To convert her to His love!"

Yeah she was preaching through her teeth, but it might be enough to convince the chantry.

"I do believe a rabid Mabari would of done a better job, at least the Mabari would of given a better fight." Katari responded to the dwarf, who he had to peer down at just to reassure that someone was actually down there. His eyes turned to his fellow Qunari, he had very little interaction with his own kind through the years and his only information he ever received about them were from Tevinter sources and they tended to be quite biased. He noticed how the woman eyed, as if expecting something from him. "I assure you milady that I haven't the faintest interest in starting any sort of altercation. There is more than enough excitement happening right in front of us." He said, addressing the woman who's gaze had fallen on him. He looked back to the guards and the would be assassins. There seemed to be a new elf who was begging for the assassins' lives, Katari had little faith that that endeavor would be successful. "How long till this turns into a complete bloodbath I wonder." He pondered aloud.

The crowd awed and gasped few even screamed in horror at what had just transpired in front of them. An assassination attempt on the new Grand Cleric was faltered with Colt's quick intervention, thanks to the aid of the using people as steps. Colt would've laughed with joy when he heard the dwarf shout out in shock and surprise, but the matters of the Grand Cleric in danger seemed to keep his focus of attention but he did make a mental note that if he were in need of a bit more height advantage, dwarves were the best liable solution at hand.

The sounds of metal clashing against another up ahead urged Colt to move quicker out of the fray of the crowd and towards the commotion around the Grand Cleric. When he finally manged to get through the crowd Colt placed his index finger and thumb on the tip of his tongue and whistled loudly. The whistle wasn't over the volume of the crowd within the courtyard, but it was loud enough for those hidden with the crowd to hear the signal. Soon after Colt pointed up into the air moving his wrist in three quick circle motions as he kept moving forward. The hired help within the crowd then began to reveal themselves and shouting orders. "Everyone will now need to vacate the area, in a calm and orderly fashion," shouted a man within the crowd itself in grey clad armor pointing towards the gates. The guards at the gate turned in unison facing each other creating more space for the large crowd to be moved and cleared out quickly from the courtyard.

Colt had arrived to a very odd and a bit of a surprising site. Huh... Didn't expect that. One of the other hired mercenaries he had a small chat with during the briefing that took place a few hours earlier before the ceremony, Felian? Freyan?, he thought of his name, but couldn't quite remember at the moment had sword and shield up at the ready in front of the assassin against the remaining Templars and guards who had their weapons pointed at him as well. Colt looked at the lone man with a questioning look and scratched his head at the confusing and hostile predicament. He placed his bow back behind him and started to walk up closer hoping to calm the situation without any needless blood shed.

Well without anymore being shed... he grimaced taking in the account of the few knights being tended too.

Though now he was about to speak up an elf woman had came up ahead of him and spoke out.

"Please messeres! Please show the elf mercy! Mercy messeres!" she spoke with eagerness trying to get them to appeal to her.

"This is an opportunity to show her the love of the Maker! To convert her to His love!"

Colt was a bit annoyed at how the others had managed to let a person get by them, but then again he was a bit baffled at how she was trying to defend the assassin. Though Colt was going to handle the situation with a more or less convincing compromise he deiced to actually wait instead. He crossed his arms and looked towards the battle ready group to see if their response was going to genuine or outright spiteful to which Colt voted for the latter seeing as how high tensions were already. On the plus side for him Colt was enjoying the back-end view he was getting from the pleading elf woman. I think the view is rather quite... nice he thought with a sly grin plastered on his face, forgetting for a fleeting moment of the dire situation at hand.