Destiny's Chosen

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The weight of the dual blades was a comfort as she helped Shianni to her feet, the other elf quite visibly shaken by the ordeal. "Let's get out of here," Shianni murmured, her shoulders quaking fearfully.

Verianna rested a hand comfortably on Shianni's waist, the gates of the alienage finally coming into view of the two female elves, Soris trailing behind them to make sure they weren't followed by the Denerim guard, as if that would do any good. "It is good to see you unharmed," Valendrian called to the trio as they entered, another elf and the Grey Warden she had met earlier standing there waiting. "Or, are you?" Valendrian then noticed Shianni, Verianna setting her lips into a thin line.

"The others will take Shianni to better rest for now," Valendrian spoke lightly, almost as if to a frightened animal.

"Hahren...," Verianna's voice trailed off, as Soris began speaking.

"She saved them, Valendrian!" Soris exclaimed, Verianna suppressing her embarrassment and giving Valendrian a sad smile.

"Saved them, to be sure. What of Vaughan?" Valendrian asked dutifully, Verianna taking a deep breath to reply.

The guardsman who appeared a moment later looked grim, Valendrian releasing a small sigh as he pieced together what had happened. "If I may be so bold, Captain," the Grey Warden intervened, Verianna bewildered though listening intently.

"All right. I can't revoke that, Grey Warden. Just get gone, and quickly," the Captain spoke exasperatedly, Duncan nodding once before the guards disappeared back towards the city.

"You... conscripted me," Verianna spoke quietly, the words rolling off her tongue. "I don't understand," she finally confessed, Duncan's reassuring smile doing little to stifle her blush.

"You fought to protect your family, you show promise and skills that would make for a good Grey Warden," Duncan explained, Verianna inclining her head once he was finished. "Now, go. Say your goodbyes. As the guards said, we must take our leave quickly," Duncan finished, Verianna nodding before turning to speak to Valendrian and Soris.

--

Verianna and Duncan had left in the middle of the day, the city elf rather quiet as they traversed away from the city. She was normally one for conversation, but the day's events had been vexing her ever since she had left the Arl of Denerim's estate. Surely Vaughan had other places to turn for entertainment? Did he feel the need to intrude on what should have been a special occasion and cause for celebration?

She felt her fingertips touch the cheek one of Vaughan's men had slapped, the fresh memory forcing a tremble down her spine. The fury at being treated like a thing, something that couldn't feel or think slowly began to permeate her thoughts, her fingers beginning to twitch as she remembered the feel of the blades in her hands. The power, the adrenaline, the knowledge that men's lives were at stake thrilled her, and a sick sort of satisfaction forced a strange smile onto her lips.

"Verianna?" Duncan's voice broke into her thoughts, the elf turning to look at him with a frazzled expression. "We continue our journey to Highever, where I informed the teyrn I would pay a visit before his venture south to Ostagar. After that, our journey will lead us to the Tower of the Circle of Magi, and further west to Orzammar. The King is still gathering his allies for a final assault on the darkspawn horde," Duncan explained, Verianna nodding sagely.

"Duncan, might I ask a...personal query?" Verianna asked moments later, the elder looking a bit startled before nodding his assent. "Why conscript me, of all things? Certainly I would have been jailed if not executed for what happened at Vaughan's estate, but I am unaccustomed to a human's...kindness," Verianna nearly cringed when she mentioned his race as a human, and noted only after she asked her question that it was not the one she originally wanted to ask.

"This is nothing of a personal kindness, Verianna," Duncan replied easily, Verianna still confused. "As Commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, it is my duty to recruit and conscript where need be to create more Grey Wardens, especially since there are so few here in Ferelden," Duncan explained, Verianna nodding her understanding. "We should arrive at Highever Castle tomorrow afternoon," Duncan then stated, the two finally finding an adequate place to camp for the night.

"Would you like me to watch first, Duncan?" Verianna asked several hours later, the sky dark and the fire crackling pleasantly.

"If you wish," Duncan didn't seem overly concerned, Verianna comfortable in his presence. "Something is troubling you, is it not?" Duncan wondered aloud as he poked the fire with a rather long stick.

"I...I didn't intend to kill Vaughan," Verianna informed him, a hand propping up her chin. "When I saw Shianni, and what he'd done to everyone, my rage blinded me. I was unable to stop my arms, and all I could see was blood. That...that overwhelming desire to kill him scared me, and it still does," Verianna then visibly shuddered, Duncan's features set in a sympathetic gaze. "I suppose I'm afraid that one day...I will lose all control," Verianna finally allowed her head to drop, her arms crossed over her legs.

"Emotions are not to be toyed with, and you've had a trying day, Verianna," Duncan tried to reason, his attempt at consoling her a good one. "I don't doubt that this wasn't the first time Vaughan has tried something like this," Duncan then added, Verianna lifting her gaze with a watery smile.

"I apologize, Duncan. You must have enough to contend with without my adding to your burden," Verianna apologized with a short laugh. Duncan did not respond to her apology, though Verianna wasn't honestly expecting a reply. The rest of the evening was spent in silence, though companionable silence.

--

The ground was hard, and stones made it difficult for Verianna to fall asleep. And I'm to see a teyrn today. What a state I must be in, Verianna thought, careful fingertips brushing through her chestnut tresses and attempting to dislodge any debris and rid herself of tangles.

Duncan did not say anything concerning Verianna's grooming, though couldn't help but be somewhat amused at her antics. A while later the Castle finally came into view, Verianna nearly gasping at the beauty of the palace. "Who goes?" a guard in front of the gates looked intimidating, Duncan cleanly introducing himself and Verianna. "Ah, of course. Teyrn Cousland has mentioned your coming," the guard the signaled for the two to be let in, Verianna feeling more self-conscious than she ever remembered. She only hoped the Couslands were nothing like Vaughan or there would be problems. Unconsciously taking a step closer to Duncan's side, Verianna followed him into the main hall of the Castle, a few of the guards giving her strange glances.

"Ah, Duncan, it is good to see you again, old friend," the man Verianna assumed was Teyrn Cousland greeted the Commander of the Grey, Duncan giving the man a slight bow before responding.

"You'll forgive my delays, My Lord, I found myself in Denerim longer than intended," Duncan then indicated to Verianna, the elf bowing her head in respect. "She's my newest recruit," Duncan then added, the teyrn looking more approving as Duncan continued.

"You'll remember Arl Howe, Duncan?" Teyrn Cousland then indicated the man at his side, his large, hooked nose nearly causing Verianna to cringe.

"Of course, My Lord. A pleasure, Arl Howe," Duncan inclined his head at the hook-nosed man, Verianna's eyes wandering when another man entered the room.

"Ah, Pup. I didn't hear you come in. You remember Arl Howe," Teyrn Cousland indicated Arl Howe once again, the young man nodding his assent.

"A pleasure, Arl Howe. Where is your lovely Delilah? I haven't seen her for some time," the young man continued suavely, Arl Howe answering some nonsense about his daughter Verianna didn't care to hear.

"This is my second son, Duncan," Teyrn Cousland introduced them, Duncan shaking hands with the teyrn's son.

"A pleasure, Duncan. I am Iverrius," the man then noticed Verianna's presence, a dark eyebrow lifting casually before giving her a rather flirtatious smile. Verianna was hardly able to stifle the urge to roll her eyes at Iverrius' demeanor, her arms crossing over her rather ample chest.

--

"Ah, my younger brother here to see me off," Fergus greeted Iverrius, the younger of the two rolling his eyes.

"Just remember, Fergus. While you're riding off to glory in the freezing cold and the rain, I'll be here in Highever with warm blankets and a roaring fire," Iverrius teased with a smirk, Fergus laughing heartily. "Father did wish me to tell you that the Arl's men are delayed, and that you should take the armies south tonight. He will ride with Arl Howe in the morning," Iverrius then relayed the message, Fergus rolling his eyes.

"You'd think they'd all be walking backwards with how quick they're moving," Fergus griped not-so-subtly.

"Papa, you will bring me home a sword, right?" Oren then spoke up, all eyes moving to the child after a moment.

"Of course, Oren. I'll bring you home the best blade I can find," Fergus promised with a smile, his gloved hand ruffling his son's hair affectionately.

"Should I...give you some time alone?" Iverrius noticed the look Oriana was throwing in Fergus' direction, his older brother lifting an eyebrow before noticing himself.

"Ah, there are my two sons," Bryce Cousland entered the chamber, Eleanor only a pace or two behind him.

"Why did you ask me to deliver your message when you clearly could have done it yourself?" Iverrius mumbled under his breath, his parents exchanging conversation with Fergus regarding the circumstances. But regardless, what was he? A courier?

"Mama says you'll be watching over us while Papa is gone. Is that true, Uncle?" Oren interrupted Iverrius' internal irritation, his green eyes blinking a few times before he leveled his gaze to better view his nephew.

"Of course, Oren. I can't let my favorite nephew get devoured by darkspawn, now can I?" Iverrius answered, his quick fingers reaching out to tickle his nephew who subsequently giggled.

"You had best get to bed soon, Pup. You'll have an early day tomorrow," the teyrn finally noted, his gaze firmly on Iverrius.

"Of course, Father. Have fun, Fergus. I shall be sleeping in my warm and inviting bed," Iverrius teased one final time before kissing his mother on the cheek and hurrying across the hall to his bedroom. He fell into slumber easily, the poor sod blissfully dreaming while a traitorous arl plotted and schemed.

Tonight would be the night the Couslands fell from power.

--

"I don't like him, Duncan," Verianna found herself saying once they were situated in the room the Teyrn had prepared, the elf releasing the pins from her bun and allowing the soft brown tresses to fall past her shoulders.

"He's a capable warrior, Verianna. He may be loose in other matters, but the he is strong in those that matter for becoming a Grey Warden," Duncan explained wearily, the elder of the two taking a seat on the mattress.

"If that's so, why didn't you just conscript him?" Verianna asked pointedly, Duncan's lips twitching into a small smile.

"Teyrn Cousland is a friend of mine, and there is another here I can recruit," Duncan murmured, Verianna merely sighing her understanding.

"So...what are we to do about the sleeping arrangements?" Verianna found herself asking a few moments later, only one bed present in the chamber. She somehow kept the embarrassment from her voice, her face void of emotion as she turned to the Grey Warden.

Not much time remained before the sound of screams and clashes of metal reverberated into the room they shared, Verianna's wide eyes finding Duncan's before grabbing her swords and following him into the corridor. Soldiers with Howe's shield and pathetic leather armor barred their path, Duncan and Verianna quickly cutting them down before making haste towards the main hall. Ser Gilmore recognized them when they entered hastily, the redheaded man directing them to the larder in a rush, blood staining his fair skin before he too went to help keep the gates closed.

Verianna felt numb as she followed Duncan, her fingers tightening around the hilts of her weapons before they crossed the kitchen into the larder. One of her hands immediately went to her lips, a shriek never making it out of her mouth. How could...how could someone do this? The look Iverrius now wore was one of reluctance and repressed fury, Verianna standing by the door in case one of Howe's men wandered too close. She could hear the pain in the teyrn's voice as he spoke, Verianna feeling her heart clench when his wife insisted that her son leave her there.

"Let's go. Howe's men will break through the gates quickly," Duncan placed a hand on Verianna's shoulder briefly before she turned and the three of them headed for the exit.

--

Iverrius seemed far different than he had when Verianna had first met him; his arrogant demeanor had disappeared, and he had instead adopted a look of loss, his eyes far away and never once moving to look for a companion. Verianna couldn't say she didn't understand losing someone, but locking oneself away would never dissipate the pain. He needed to be crying, yelling, anything that wasn't sitting silently as though he were deaf and mute. "Iverrius," Verianna tried to speak to him, her voice hoarse.

His eyes found hers briefly, the deep green smothering all feeling until it had been neatly compartmentalized and put away to contemplate another day. "Please, eat something," Verianna insisted, a makeshift bowl full of a vegetable broth quickly thrust in his direction. He looked away a moment later, his hand still keeping a blanket around his form. She may not have liked him earlier in the day, but things were different now. They were both destined to be Grey Wardens, and they would be comrades.

"Verianna," Duncan reprimanded, the elf looking up at him with a forlorn expression. "Leave him be," Duncan spoke quietly, Verianna finally nodding before stepping into her tent. Tossing and turning, Verianna decided not long after attempting sleep that it simply would not come that night, not after witnessing what she had at Highever Castle.

Venturing out of her tent, Verianna was surprised to notice that Iverrius had taken up the vigil, Duncan's quiet snores sounding close to Verianna's tent. The bowl she had tried to give Iverrius earlier now lay on the ground at Iverrius' feet, its contents emptied. At least he ate something, Verianna noted, the elf making sure to be quiet enough to not wake Duncan but loud enough to alert Iverrius to her presence. Taking a seat on the wooden log at his side, Iverrius carefully turned his head to look at her, Verianna looking off into the distance. "I'm sorry for your loss, Iverrius," she finally murmured, the nobleman next to her visibly tensing at the memory.

"I...do not wish to speak of it," Iverrius finally mumbled, Verianna nodding and allowing silence to once again take hold of the night.

--

Oren. Oriana. Mother. Father. What has our family done to warrant such injustice? Surely Howe cannot truly think himself justified for taking over Highever Castle, Iverrius couldn't push the deaths of so many beloved people from his overtaxed mind, his mood constantly hovering between sheer rage and hopeless helplessness. What could he do against Howe? Howe had control of Amaranthine and Highever now, and was apparently Loghain's right-hand man.

Taking a deep albeit unsteady breath, Iverrius allowed his eyes to wander around the campsite; the elf had remained at his side like a loyal mabari, the poor thing shivering against the cool night breeze. Normally, when a girl would shiver at his side, it was from an entirely different cause. Now, though, Iverrius didn't particularly care for pleasure, for feeling at all, if he were honest.

Standing, Iverrius noted the shocked look on the elf's face before draping the blanket around her shoulders. His body felt numb to his senses, his feet carrying him to his own tent before veritably falling onto the roll laid out for him. Sleep wouldn't come, but at least he could be shielded from the chilly air and the elf's incessant company in the solitude of his tent.

At least Fergus escaped the slaughter, Iverrius consoled himself with the thought, the idea of informing his brother about Howe's treachery forcing his fists to clench painfully. He would make Howe pay, he would take vengeance for his father and the family who had died that night. The anger that had flared in his mind concerning the traitorous arl eventually dissipated, a heavy sleep slowly beginning to claim the youngest remaining Cousland. He heard one final, soft sigh as he nodded off, an unconscious smile tugging at his lips.

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The morning was quiet, and Duncan's two recruits trudged quietly behind him as they made their way west, Iverrius seemingly in better spirits than he had been the previous evening. Verianna noted this fact with a small smile, her eyes hovering on his form before scouring the skyline for any signs of life. Just as she turned to look away, her sensitive ears began to pick up the sound of hurried footsteps, three human men emerging from surrounding trees, all understandably out of breath. "D-don't go that way!" one of the men warned with a crazed expression, Verianna exchanging a questioning glance with Iverrius while Duncan steered the conversation.

"Have you found something?" Duncan asked sagely, the men mumbling something about crazy elves before running past the trio. "Elves...," Duncan's voice trailed off, Verianna's fingers twitching. Elves? Here? Were they the Dalish? Verianna couldn't contain the smile that appeared on her lips moments later, Iverrius lifting an eyebrow at the sudden expression though keeping any questions to himself.

"Perhaps a clan of Dalish are camped nearby," Duncan murmured in an approving tone, Verianna very nearly overtaking the lead to find them. The trees finally gave way to a strange rock formation, Verianna nearly missing the unconscious body blocking the entrance to what appeared to be a cave. Rushing forward, Duncan knelt next to the elf's body, traces of blood marring her otherwise flawless skin. "She has been infected by the taint," Duncan stated, his tone not betraying the apprehension he felt.

"The taint?" Verianna parroted, the Dalish elf's eyes opening briefly before she groaned and fell into unconsciousness once again.

"Quickly. We must take her to the Dalish Camp," Duncan carefully drew the elf further into his arms, Verianna better able to see the blood trickling from the other elf's lips. Iverrius looked on in a quiet daze, his eyebrows drawn together in frustration. They had a darkspawn army to defeat, right? Why was Duncan going out of his way to help someone he didn't know in the first place? Iverrius wasn't about to protest, but he could clearly see the poorly hidden awe in Verianna's features.

--

Her body ached, and she could smell the blood on her skin before she allowed her breathing to return to normal, her dilated eyes opening despite the bright sunlight. "We were worried you would not survive, Da'len," Marethari knelt at her side, the elderly keeper of the clan finally standing.

"Ma serannas," Aeferiel murmured quietly before pushing herself into a sitting position, her eyes scanning the ground before locating her bow. The beautifully-crafted wood had been tenderly placed on the ground at her side, her fingertips reaching for it instinctually despite the distance.

"Do not thank me, Da'len. Even with my magic, I was not able to completely heal you," Marethari confessed, the keeper finally turning to the shem standing behind her. "Duncan found you outside of a cave," Marethari continued, the shemlen taking a few steps forward.

"What happened?" Aeferiel finally found her voice, the shemlen's features hardening. "Where is Tamlen?" Aeferiel then continued, Marethari's lips forming a thin line.

"I was hoping you could tell us, Da'len," Marethari stated, Aeferiel trying to remember just what had happened in the cave to render her so ill.

"A mirror. Tamlen approached it, though 'twas...odd. He said he could see shapes within. I warned him, urged him to leave it so we could tell you of our findings, but he would not heed my warnings," Aeferiel truly looked remorseful as she shut her eyes. "I fear for him," Aeferiel finally whispered, Duncan taking another step forward.

"Duncan is a Grey Warden, Da'len," Marethari finally informed Aeferiel.

"I fear you may have come into contact with the darkspawn taint, and you will not survive even with your keeper's magic," Duncan informed her with a sad expression, Aeferiel allowing the shock to register on her features. "However, I have an alternative, if you wish it," Duncan continued, Aeferiel nodding once to bid him continue. "Were you to join the Grey Wardens, you stand a chance at overcoming this taint now coursing through your veins," Duncan informed her, Aeferiel clenching her jaw.

"Before making your decision, Da'len, I would like you to take Merrill to the cave in which you found the mirror. We might learn of Tamlen's fate or the origin of the supposed mirror," Marethari stated, Aeferiel nodding avidly, her red hair falling over her shoulder in the process.

"Keeper," Aeferiel spoke quietly once Duncan was out of earshot, her narrowed eyes wandering the camp. "Who are the visitors?" Aeferiel then asked, her curiosity palpable.

"Duncan's other recruits," Marethari answered simply, Aeferiel nodding her understanding before standing, her eyes searching for the Keeper's apprentice, Merrill. Crossing the camp, Aeferiel assured most who stopped her that she was indeed fine, her eyes finding and pinpointing the elf traveling with the Grey Warden. Her helpful, perky attitude was grating on Aeferiel's nerves and she had yet to even meet the woman. The other was hardly any better: an arrogant shemlen who seemed to watch the other female members of her tribe with little less than lust in his eyes. Were she to join Duncan in becoming a Grey Warden, how she would keep from murdering the two recruits he possessed already she did not know nor care to know.

"The keeper has asked me to accompany you back to the ruins. Are you well enough?" Merrill found Aeferiel, the latter nodding her assent before following Merrill to the edge of the forest. "Everyone is worried for Tamlen," Merrill then attempted to make conversation, Aeferiel merely nodding and drawing her bow when darkspawn suddenly appeared.

"These creatures! What are they?" Merrill wondered aloud, Aeferiel releasing a few arrows in the meantime.

"They bleed. They die. What more needs be known of them to kill them?" Aeferiel muttered, a sudden weariness overtaking her.

"Are you all right, lethallan?" Merrill noticed the sudden change, Aeferiel steeling her nerves and willing away the pain before nodding.

"Let us move forward. Tamlen must be found," Aeferiel murmured, the two continuing forward despite the danger.

--

"These ruins...they look elven in nature. I wasn't aware the elves lived underground," Merrill seemed fascinated by the architecture, Aeferiel venturing closer to the heart of the ruins.

The journey to the room containing the mirror was filled with darkspawn-slaying, the activity leaving Aeferiel breathless and weak. Merrill noticed the change again, though knew better than to bring it up yet again. Aeferiel stood to the side while Merrill drew closer to the magical device, the keeper's apprentice reaching out her hand foolishly before Duncan appeared.

"Don't. This is a Tevinter artifact, and one that apparently houses the darkspawn taint," Duncan explained, his two recruits at his back both looking around the ruin with awe. "I fear your friend has succumbed to the taint. You will likely never find him," Duncan added with a sad expression, Aeferiel suppressing her sorrow with a straight face. She had assumed as much concerning Tamlen; she would mourn his loss in silence, and hope no one noticed her slight change of demeanor.

Wincing, Aeferiel suddenly began to feel the taint surface in her veins surface, strange visions appearing in her mind. Gritting her teeth, Aeferiel clenched her fists and drew them to her chest, her eyes closing as her head dipped forward. "Lethallan!" Aeferiel heard Merrill screech, a hand grasping her elbow gently.

"Don't," Aeferiel ground out, her voice tinged with pain. "It will pass," Aeferiel continued, her fists unclenching before she inhaled deeply. "Perhaps we should return to camp," Aeferiel then stated plainly, Verianna looking positively aghast while Iverrius blinked at the sudden absence of Aeferiel's pain.

--

"You are leaving, Da'len?" Marethari stated more than asked, Aeferiel giving her keeper a tacit nod. "Then allow us to properly send you off," Marethari had been planning for just an event, and frowned deeply when Aeferiel began her goodbyes.

Duncan, Iverrius, and Verianna waited patiently, Aeferiel adjusting the strap containing her bow until it lay in a plane comfortable on her back. "Where will we go?" Aeferiel asked straight to the point, Duncan informing her of their venture to the Tower of the Circle of Magi.

"We will find healers there who will be able to keep your body stable until we are able to perform the Joining ritual," Duncan informed her, Aeferiel's body tensing at the mention of foreign mages. It felt strange, knowing that her well-being was about to be placed in the hands of unknown magi. If this shem..., Aeferiel's thoughts halted, her lips thinning before she continued with her thought. If Duncan places his trust in the leashed mages, then I suppose I shall give them a chance as well, Aeferiel nodded inwardly at her monologue.

"Stay safe, Da'len," Ashalle suddenly threw her arms around Aeferiel, the redhead clearly stunned for a moment before returning the embrace albeit awkwardly. "You will visit us, right?" Ashalle then continued, a hint of a smile appearing on Aeferiel's features.

"I will," Aeferiel answered simply, the answer seemingly satisfying Ashalle who then released her hold on her surrogate daughter. "Let us be off," Aeferiel then turned to Duncan, the Grey Warden looking rather haggard. "Surely we have much ground to cover," Aeferiel noted astutely, the Dalish taking the lead in showing them the way out of the wood and closer to a traveled road.

--

The remainder of the day was uneventful, the four covering a lot of ground and the next day promising to show them the Tower of the Circle of Magi. Aeferiel had shown Duncan a rather simple trick of starting a fire that saved him time, the other two recruits watching intently though it was clear Aeferiel had no desire to impart this knowledge to either of them.

"So, what was it like, living among the Dalish?" Verianna asked anxiously, an infectious smile on her lips and her legs unable to stop twitching from excitement.

"Quiet. Peaceful. Not at all like living in a shemlen city, I am certain," Aeferiel answered bitingly, the Dalish elf restringing her bow with a calm expression despite her tone.

"It isn't all bad, you know," Iverrius pointed out, Aeferiel's violet eyes lifting from her bow to carefully assess the noble.

"I suppose you would know, shem. You did live in a castle and have elven slaves wait on you hand and foot, did you not?" Aeferiel then retorted, Iverrius choking on his own reply while Verianna's expression turned somber.

"Please, Aeferiel. I would like to keep things civil at camp," Duncan noted quietly, the stoic Commander gazing deeply into the fire's depths.

"Ma nuvenin," Aeferiel murmured quietly, her small hands continuing to their craft of working with the ironbark wood. The camp fell into silence then, each respective recruit pondering his or her circumstances.

Aeferiel could still feel the taint gnawing at the edges of her sanity, the darkness slowing dissolving into her blood. Setting her bow onto the ground, Aeferiel stretched her legs closer to the fire, the Dalish armor protecting little from the elements. The sky was clear, and as such the wind was cold upon her bare skin despite the season.

Iverrius could still clearly hear the distressed cry of his mother upon finding the cadavers of Oren and Oriana, the acrid smell of his father's blood still lingering in his senses. These vivid memories would haunt him forever, but he would have his vengeance. Arl Howe would die by his hand, or Maker help him, he would perish in the attempt.

Verianna was abruptly reminded of her crimes in Denerim while Iverrius and Aeferiel had bickered, the city elf's expression turning sour as her lips formed a thin line. Holding her knees together, Verianna braced her elbows on top of them, her chin propping itself on her hands. Vaughan's blood had felt warm on her hands, the rush of the kill even now sending a chill down her spine. But...he had deserved his fate, hadn't he? A monster such as he should not be allowed a seat of power, let alone the opportunity to do such things ever again. And Maker only knew he would abuse his power as much as anyone would allow. But...killing was wrong, was it not? The grey areas forced her thinking into circles, a final sigh escaping her lips when she realized she would not justify or condemn her actions with such circular reasoning.

--

The morning brought rain, the camp's inhabitants nonplussed at their lousy luck but beginning to pack up camp nonetheless. Iverrius grumbled the most, his dark hair dripping down his neck and sticking to his forehead. Verianna giggled at his antics, Aeferiel merely giving the two an analyzing look before continuing to pack the few things she had brought with her. Duncan's expression was hard to read, Aeferiel nearly at his side as they continued walking.

"Lake Calenhad at last," Duncan gestured to the large body of water, the tower attracting the attention of the group, however.

"Prison of the mages," Aeferiel stated flatly, Duncan's disapproving gaze lost on the Dalish elf who was much too sure of herself to notice. "Let us not waste time gaping," Aeferiel then murmured, taking confident strides forward towards the dock.

"She certainly gets to the heart of the matter," Duncan noted with a half smile, Iverrius rolling his eyes as Verianna nodded her agreement. "Let us follow, then," Duncan continued, Aeferiel nearly upon the boatman, Kester. "We require passage to the tower," Duncan explained concisely, Kester warily eying Aeferiel who had adopted an irritated stance. "I believe Irving and Greagoir are awaiting my arrival," Duncan then added, Kester's eyes widening in realization.

"You're the Grey Warden! I've heard them templars talking about it all abuzz. I'd wager they think you're to take one of them to be a Grey Warden," Kester chuckled before directing the small group into his boat.

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The Harrowing Chamber. Even the name was intimidating. Steeling her resolve, Ehliara took a deep breath before traipsing into the large chamber, a great number of templars looking at her with disdain. She recognized Cullen briefly, the templar in question looking away with a slight flush to his fair cheeks. "You are ready. I am sure of it," Irving assured her, his wrinkled hand resting on her shoulder briefly before releasing her. "As all of us have passed our harrowings, so shall you," Irving then nodded, Ehliara taking a few tentative steps towards the pedestal full of lyrium that awaited her.

"Are you ready, Ehliara?" Greagoir asked, his helmet in the crook of his arms. "Remember well that should you fail, you will die," he then added simply, a shot of fear streaking through the young apprentice's veins as apprehension slowly began to fill her.

"Do not frighten her, Greagoir. She is strong," Irving reprimanded the Knight Commander quietly, Ehliara taking another deep breath before approaching the pedestal and allowing her hand to dip into the raw lyrium. The blue, ethereal fluid at first remained calm, Ehliara feeling her apprehension mounting before it slowly began to react at the warmth and touch of her skin. The feeling was strange, something akin to water traveling up her arm in something of a snakelike fashion.

Her dark eyes widened as she stared down at her arm which had been all-but-engulfed by the magical substance, the darkness overtaking her irises as she fell into a state of semi-consciousness, her body remaining standing while her spirit indeed wandered the Fade.

--

Blurry outlines and strange landscapes greeted her when she finally regained her bearings, Ehliara stifling the fright that threatened to overwhelm her. She had a duty to perform, a job to fulfill, and Maker help her she would succeed!

"You! You're another mage thrown to the mercy of the demons, aren't you?" another entity suddenly appeared at her side, Ehliara's eyes widening once she noticed the talking mouse. "It's inhumane, what the Chantry and the templars do to us mages," the mouse continued, his form shifting quickly into that of a human man.

"We are a danger you know," Ehliara felt the need to point out, the man merely rolling his eyes at her naïve remark.

"Ever wonder if mages would be better off without the Chantry looking over their shoulders to point out every flaw? Those who do seek demons for power might not if they didn't feel caged in the tower!" the man quickly retorted, Ehliara merely blinking lamely at his logical argument.

"I'm afraid I haven't come here to argue theology," Ehliara then murmured quietly, her shy nature manifesting as her eyes found the ground, or the Fade's representation of it.

"But of course. You came here to slay the demon. I can help, you know," the man then continued, Ehliara smiling despite everything and enthusiastically encouraging his aid.

Traveling proved to be quieter than Ehliara expected, the young mage killing what few hostile entities lurked in wait for her as she wandered the Fade. "There's a spirit nearby," Mouse informed her gravely after a time, Ehliara not sensing anything malicious and continuing to travel regardless.

"You are here to battle the demon, are you not, mortal?" the Spirit of Valour called to Ehliara from his higher ground, a collection of ethereal weapons and the racks housing them at his side. "If you cannot defeat me, you have no hope of defeating that which you seek, and that which hunts you," the Spirit continued grimly, Ehliara hesitating in her step.

"You would help me, Spirit?" Ehliara turned to Valour, the spirit not answering immediately.

"If you prove yourself worthy, I shall give you a weapon to use in your fight against the demon," Valour informed her, Ehliara pursing her lips before taking a few steps closer.

"Prove myself worthy? And how would I go about such a task?" Ehliara began, the mage already hazarding a guess as to what she would be forced to undergo.

"Fight me, of course. Should you prove victorious, I will give you the stave. However, should you fail, I will give you a merciful death. The demon would not," Valour seemed to think this a fair deal, Ehliara hesitant about accepting. The staff would be helpful, but fighting an armed opponent was not something Ehliara sought even when she felt more confident about her magic usage. "Have we a bargain, mortal?" Valour asked, finality tingeing his tone.

"We have, spirit," Ehliara finally inclined her head in consent, Mouse exclaiming something Ehliara didn't quite hear. The Spirit was upon her mere moments later, his sword drawn and bearing down upon the poorly-equipped mage. Pushing her fear aside briefly, Ehliara brought forth her magical prowess and stunned the Spirit before attacking.

"Enough! I yield. You have the power to defeat the demon," Valour stated, his amorphous form giving Ehliara a similarly ethereal staff. "This staff will no longer be of use to you once you return to your realm," Valour added as an afterthought, Ehliara nodding simply before hooking the staff into place on the back of her robes and continuing forward.

The sloth demon at the end of the path yielded little for a time, Ehliara quickly losing patience though eventually persuading the old and powerful being to teach his form. The riddles were hardly difficult, and Ehliara seemed satisfied when her companion was better able to defend himself and aid her in the task she had yet to complete.

The rage demon appeared in the circular area at the beginning of the path, Ehliara and Mouse quickly dispatching of it before conversing themselves. "...I believe now that the rage demon was not my test," Ehliara spoke quietly, though with an underlying strength that surprised Mouse.

"What are you talking about? There aren't any other demons here," Mouse insisted simply, Ehliara not about to forget Mouse insinuate that he take control of her body to return to the land of mortals. She could feel her blood quicken when she sensed Mouse turn hostile towards her, only to find herself losing consciousness at a most inopportune moment.

--

"Remember the plan, Jowan. I care not how we go about getting into the Phylactery chamber, so long as you promise to aid me when we leave for Denerim," Hetrius reminded the other blood mage, Jowan nodding his understanding albeit reluctantly. If Lily ever found out...

"A friend of mine just passed the Harrowing this past evening. I think she might be willing to help us, Hetrius," Jowan informed the elf, Hetrius considering before nodding.

"Just be sure that she doesn't inform our plan to the First Enchanter or the bloody templars," Hetrius added a bit angrily, the thought that a stupid, naïve girl might ruin their plan infuriating him. He had escaped the Circle once and he would succeed yet again.

Hetrius' eyes followed Jowan's form as it disappeared from view, his mind still considering what might all occur that night. He had heard that a Grey Warden had arrived in the Tower the previous day, and in fact he had been called upon to aid a member of the party with whom the Grey Warden had traveled thus far. He had been ignoring the call until now, though assumed he had little better to do before he met Jowan and their plan began.

The infirmary was placed in the room closest to the stairs between the apprentice's quarters and those of the fully-affirmed mages, just in case something went horribly wrong. Hetrius found himself wandering the circular corridor until he noticed a handful of skillful mages performing some sort of healing spell. He couldn't tell who was the recipient of such a potent spell, but soon entered as his curiosity mounted. "Ah, Hetrius. So glad you could join us," Petra greeted him as he entered, the elf barely nodding in her direction at the greeting.

"Another prisoner. How utterly perfect," the elf receiving the treatment mumbled under her breath, Hetrius noticing the make of her armor. "How many times must I reiterate my statement that I feel perfectly well? I need not this constant scrutiny," Aeferiel continued her small rant, Hetrius repressing the smirk that was coming unbidden to his lips.

"I am sorry, Miss. Duncan has asked us to keep you as healthy as we are able, and keep you healthy we shall," an unnamed human man answered her question, a strangely sympathetic tone to his voice.

"Keep me healthy and drive me mad equate it seems," Aeferiel's lips curled at the unpleasantness of the situation, Hetrius unable to keep from laughing. "You find my discomfort amusing, do you?" Aeferiel then noticed Hetrius, her expression turning into a dark glare.

"In all honesty, quite. All my colleagues here at the Circle are quite boorish. It's refreshing to meet someone who can keep them on their toes," Hetrius gave Aeferiel a subtle compliment, the Dalish elf blinking owlishly at the remark.

"It seems you have everything under control here, Hetrius. I suppose we are needed elsewhere," Petra murmured, her tone disapproving but her facial expression exposing her own amusement.

"Wonderful. Time alone with a leashed mage, and one with an underdeveloped sense of humor at that," Aeferiel mumbled, the Dalish getting to her feet and strapping her bow to her back comfortably.

"Now that was cold. Do you really find me as unbearable as the other mages?" Hetrius prodded with a smirk, Aeferiel looking up at him with another dark look.

"I believe the degree of your...unbearable qualities even out to those humans you call colleagues," Aeferiel retorted cuttingly, Hetrius unfazed by the cruel comments.

Silence resounded in the room for a few moments, Aeferiel making her way to the door before Hetrius spoke once more. "You...are a Dalish, correct?" Hetrius asked tentatively, Aeferiel pausing at the doorway.

"What does a pitiful elf like you care for the Dalish?" Aeferiel asked, her tone even and controlled.

"I searched for the Dalish once a few years ago," Hetrius commented lightly, Aeferiel's eyes widening a fraction before turning to face the mage. "I escaped the Circle, was branded an apostate, but was sadly found by the templars before I found a clan to join," Hetrius sighed with a shrug of his shoulders, those few days of freedom like a few drops of water to a dehydrated man in the desert. He had tasted of freedom but once, and now it was all he desired.

"This...place. This tower filled with mages, I do not understand," Aeferiel mumbled, her teeth biting the inside of her lip. "Had I the power, mage, I would conscript you and free you from this prison," Aeferiel told him blatantly, Hetrius blinking back his surprise. One moment she was harsh and cold, and the next she was expressing her desire to aid him? This is why I hate women, Hetrius inwardly sighed.

--

"You're awake!" a vaguely familiar voice rang in Ehliara's ears, the female mage groaning quietly before pushing herself into an upright position. "They brought you back earlier this morning," Jowan continued, his desire for details concerning the Harrowing hard to miss. "Are you all right?" he then queried, Ehliara yawning before nodding at his question. "The First Enchanter wanted to see you when you woke up," Jowan then mentioned, Ehliara nodding before pushing her legs over the side of her bed, balance a bit more wobbly than normal.

"Thank you, Jowan. I suppose I should go then, shouldn't I?" Ehliara smiled brightly at her friend, Jowan returning the expression as Ehliara slowly made her way out of the room. The gossip-mongers were hard to miss as Ehliara walked down the corridor, some snippets even revolving around her.

"Have you seen the way he looks at her? It's so obvious he loves her," one of the girls whispered with a giggle, her companion's own giggle joining the fray. A little unnerved, Ehliara crossed a doorway into a large, round chamber, the stairs leading to the third floor of the tower but a few paces away.

"Congratulations on your Harrowing. I heard it was the cleanest the templars have seen in a long time," a mage from one of Ehliara's classes greeted her, Ehliara beginning to feel embarrassed by all the attention.

"If you'll excuse me...," Ehliara easily slipped past him, a sigh of relief escaping her lips once she reached the third floor landing. Hopefully such gossipers and sycophants would not hassle her among the senior enchanters.

She had nearly made it to Irving's office when she spotted a certain templar standing rather awkwardly in the hallway, his eyes pointedly not looking her direction as she approached. "Hello, Cullen," Ehliara greeted with a friendly smile, the redheaded templar finally looking at her, his expression flushed.

"H-hello, Ehliara," Cullen returned the greeting, his cheeks turning a color closer to his hair the longer the conversation lingered. "I was t-the templar who was to a-administer the killing blow, if you f-failed," Cullen seemed horrified by the prospect, though somehow kept some semblance of duty in the mix of facial expression.

Ehliara frowned deeply at the knowledge, her dark eyes looking up at Cullen briefly before another blinding smile appeared instead of the frown. "Well, it makes me feel better to know it was you, Cullen. You're...kinder than many of the templars here," Ehliara admitted a bit sheepishly, one of her hands lifting to push back a stray piece of hair. "I fear I may have dallied here too long, Cullen. I hope to see you again soon," Ehliara smiled once again at the templar, Cullen merely nodding his approval since a rather large lump had settled in his throat.

When Ehliara first approached the First Enchanter's office, it was not difficult to hear Greagoir's voice, the Knight Commander apparently staunchly opposing whatever it was Irving had proposed. Not wanting to intrude, Ehliara waited until Greagoir had stopped his tirade and quietly appeared in the doorway. Irving's eyes looked up to view her form before beckoning her forward, another man in armor at he First Enchanter's side.

"You wished to see me, First Enchanter?" Ehliara asked with a small smile, Irving first informing Greagoir that they would continue their conversation later before looking back to Ehliara.

"I did. I have your new robes and staff for enduring the Harrowing," Irving presented the items with a proud smile, Ehliara placing the staff on the back of her old robes and allowing her new robes to hang from the crook in her arms.

"Pardon my question, Irving, but is this the one you mentioned?" Duncan asked, both sets of eyes now focusing on the Grey Warden.

"She is, Duncan," Irving nodded once, Ehliara curious though not allowing the emotion to manifest fully onto her features. "I suppose I shouldn't keep Greagoir waiting any longer. Child, would you escort Duncan to his quarters? They are on the far side of this floor," Irving murmured, Ehliara nodding tentatively.

The First Enchanter disappeared from the room without another word, Duncan and Ehliara exchanging a wordless glance. "Irving speaks highly of your magical skills," Duncan stated, Ehliara assuming he wished to start a conversation to break the stifling silence between them.

"He is far too kind," Ehliara answered humbly, the blonde showing Duncan from the First Enchanter's office and rounding the corridors, her strides shorter than Duncan's. "So, what brings you to the tower?" Ehliara asked, her interest a bit piqued ever since hearing of the Grey Warden's arrival.

"I am looking for new recruits. Surely you are aware of the darkspawn threat now amassing in the south," Duncan answered pragmatically, Ehliara thrown slightly off balance. She had indeed known of the monsters, but hadn't been aware that the problem was so severe.

"I suppose you will take a templar with you?" Ehliara asked a bit dismally, the young mage certain that Duncan wasn't about to take a dangerous mage with him.

"No. I was looking for a mage, if possible. However, it seems that Greagoir is firmly against my taking another, since we have mages already at Ostagar," Duncan commented, Ehliara's features lighting somewhat as her lips turned into a guarded smile.

"Here we are, Duncan. I hope you find what you're looking for," Ehliara wished him the best, Duncan giving her an odd look before nodding to himself. Turning on her heel, Ehliara was surprised to see Jowan waiting in the corridor, his expression nervous and anxious.

I wonder what has distressed him so, Ehliara wondered quietly, her light footsteps leading her closer to her friend before the long and complicated explanation came.

[Admin]

I can't believe I went through with this, Ehliara now stood outside of the basement of the Tower, apprehension invading her features as Irving, Greagoir, and some impressive-looking templars barred the exit for Jowan and Lily.

"I am disappointed, Child. You could have come to me, and told me about this plan," Irving sounded somber indeed, the First Enchanter shaking his head with a sorrowful sigh.

"Enough of your nonsense, Irving. We're leaving here, through all of you if necessary," Hetrius spat with a glare, the templars unsheathing their swords and staring at Hetrius through their impersonal helmets.

"What are you talking about? You can't defeat the templars!" Ehliara exclaimed, Lily looking just as frightened as Ehliara felt. Jowan's eyes met the ground, Hetrius sneering in Ehliara's direction before a knife appeared in Jowan's hand.

"I won't let you keep us here!" Jowan hesitated only a moment before unleashing the power of his blood magic, the templars and First Enchanter falling to the ground.

"Jowan...," Ehliara gasped, a hand reaching her lips in horror. Lily adopted a similar look, the initiate backing away from the maleficar.

"Blood magic is evil, Jowan," Lily stated a bit unsteadily, Jowan admitting that he had dabbled in such forbidden arts. Breaking off all ties with him, Lily instead turned from him completely, Jowan's head drooping before he ran from the room and supposedly from the tower. Hetrius remained, if only due to the phylactery that could still be used to hunt him.

I would rather die now than run from the templars at every turn, Hetrius decided harshly, his upper lip curling in disgust as Ehliara kneeled at Irving's side.

"You! You three enabled a maleficar to escape! How are we to hunt him down without his phylactery?" Greagoir nearly shouted, Ehliara helping Irving to his feet as Hetrius glared unflinchingly at the Knight Commander.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Hetrius had to keep his anger in check before he spoke and got himself killed even more quickly. "I...I submit myself to the punishment of the Chantry," Lily whispered, her head bowed in Greagoir's direction. Ehliara's gaze moved to Lily in one sweeping motion, her face easily demonstrating her sympathy and desire to help Lily.

After sentencing Lily to Aeonar, Greagoir whipped his gaze around to view the two remaining mages, Ehliara feeling as though she had been caught in a spider's web. Arguing that she had no knowledge of his blood magic, Ehliara was little surprised when Greagoir was not appeased; before the situation could become entirely out of control, however, Duncan appeared, flanked by his other three recruits.

"This is not a matter for the Grey Wardens," Greagoir was clearly unhappy with the sudden appearance of Duncan, Irving's lips pursed as Duncan began to speak.

"The Chantry does not have the authority to supersede the Right of Conscription last I checked, Greagoir," Duncan asserted, the Knight Commander's eyes bulging.

"I will conscript them," Duncan further added, Ehliara's eyes wide as Hetrius gave Aeferiel a similar wide-eyed gaze. The Dalish in question turned to look away from Hetrius' prying eyes, Greagoir spouting some nonsense about helping maleficar or potentially being blood mages themselves.

"It matters little now, Greagoir. They are beyond our jurisdiction," Irving uttered, Greagoir scowling before leaving the room. "May the Maker watch over you now, Child. Let me also say that you are both representatives of the Circle, and I hope you will act accordingly," Irving finished, the First Enchanter finally leaving the room with a flourish of his robes.

Iverrius and Verianna exchanged awkward glances with Hetrius and Ehliara respectively, Duncan finally clearing his throat before speaking. "I will continue traveling to Orzammar, and then rendezvous with you all in Ostagar," Duncan paused, Verianna and Iverrius predictably protesting.

"We're not to travel with you?" Verianna asked, her lips forming a frown.

"Aeferiel's body will not withstand the taint for the journey to Orzammar and then Ostagar. She will need companions to help keep her safe," Duncan explained, Ehliara and Hetrius exchanging a confused glance.

"Is that why there were healers with you? What happened?" Hetrius drove the point home, Aeferiel avoiding his gaze as it lingered on her form.

"I came into contact with the darkspawn taint; the keeper of my clan healed me as best she was able, but 'twas not enough. Duncan found me, and offered me a chance at life should I survive the Joining," Aeferiel answered, understanding dawning over Hetrius' features.

"Are we to all travel to Ostagar then? You will go to Orzammar alone?" Ehliara spoke up, her sympathetic eyes on Aeferiel before lifting to look at Duncan.

"Indeed. I have written a letter for you to bring to another warden there so they will know that Aeferiel's Joining is to occur as soon as is possible. The rest of you will wait until I return," Duncan explained, a piece of rolled parchment clutched in his hand. "Aeferiel, I will leave you in charge, though I advise you not to abuse that power," Duncan then handed her the missive, Aeferiel inclining her head at his instructions.

"I make no guarantees of their safety, though I will do my best to ensure no one dies needlessly," Aeferiel answered pragmatically, Duncan nodding at the best reply he would receive from the elf.

--

Ehliara paused outside of the dormitory she had just recently acquired after passing the Harrowing, a small sack hooked between her fingers and hanging over her shoulders. It was all so surreal; one moment she was becoming a fully-fledged mage, and the next she was to become a Grey Warden. So many swift changes left her mind in a whirl.

I suppose I'll just make the best out of it, Ehliara reflected, a soft sigh escaping her lips. It would be so strange to leave the Circle, especially after spending nearly her entire life in the Tower. Even the templars in their condescending manners had grown on Ehliara, and, she supposed, the effect had not remained one-sided.

A certain templar's face immediately popped up in Ehliara's mind, the mage quickly extinguishing the image as her cheeks flared a rather endearing scarlet. She knew nothing would ever come of her crush, though couldn't help but imagine what would transpire were the circumstances different.

Frowning, Ehliara became keenly aware that circumstances were not changed, and they never would be. He would always belong to the Chantry and to the Maker, and she would forever be hailed as a pariah who was capable of turning into a demon-enslaved abomination at any given moment.

Maker forbid a mage ever find happiness. They were, after all, supposedly cursed. Realizing her train of thought was quickly turning for the worse, Ehliara shook the thoughts away; turning to meet with the group she was to travel with, Ehliara only saw silver before she collided painfully with a rather loud thud.

"Oh, Maker! I'm so s-sorry, Ehliara," Cullen immediately helped the blonde to her feet, the mage bashfully looking away before brushing away nonexistent dirt from her shoulder.

"It's quite all right, Cullen. I should have been paying more attention," Ehliara finally looked up at the familiar face, a pang of guilt stabbing at her conscious. "You know...I am to leave the Tower, I suppose," Ehliara then frowned, an overwhelming sense of melancholy filling her. She hadn't thought leaving the tower would elicit such an emotional response. Not the tower. Cullen, Ehliara corrected herself, her smile a fragile one.

"Greagoir told us, yes," Cullen affirmed her statement, his own expression grim, though if from true anxiety Ehliara was unable to discern. "You are to become a G-grey Warden, yes?" Cullen added curiously, Ehliara nodding.

Silence ensued for a few moments after, Ehliara's fingers flexing before she finally decided on her course of action. Maker help her. Laying a hand on Cullen's armored shoulder, Ehliara stood on her tiptoes before pressing a soft, chaste kiss to the templar's cheek.

Feeling her cheeks suddenly begin to radiate fire (figuratively, of course), Ehliara quickly ducked her head from embarrassment and bypassed the stunned templar, the color finally dissipating before she reached the remainder of the group.

--

The group traveling south started early that day, none able to sleep after Ehliara and Hetrius had been conscripted. The two mages had been allowed to gather what few precious possessions they owned before Aeferiel led them away from the tower; she had been understandably caught off guard when Duncan had appointed her as the temporary leader of the group. She most likely had had the most battle experience and skills as a scout, but her illness and standing as an elf nearly warranted her out of the choosing. Shems seemed to be surprising her often lately, or perhaps it was merely that certain man... Perhaps Duncan is one of the few respectable humans, Aeferiel reasoned.

Ehliara and Verianna had fallen in step together in the middle behind Aeferiel, the blonde mage rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm herself. The sun had barely risen, and the cool night air had yet to completely disappear. Thankfully, though, Aeferiel kept the pace rather challenging and Ehliara never remained cold for long. "So, did you come from an alienage?" Ehliara looked over at Verianna, the brunette looking stunned for a moment before nodding.

"Yes, the one in Denerim," Verianna answered, Ehliara nodding once before looking back towards the path. "Do you remember your home before the Circle?" Verianna then queried, Ehliara's shoulders stiffening at the question.

"Those...are not fond memories, Verianna. I would rather not speak of them," Ehliara murmured quietly, the elf's lip pulling into a frown before nodding. Aeferiel briefly looked over her shoulder at the female mage, her purple eyes quickly moving back to the road. It was none of her concern.

Deciding a somber march was far too serious for his current mood, Iverrius allowed his eyes to wander, the sway of Ehliara's hips slowly beginning to catch his attention. The robes given to the mages left little to the imagination, and Iverrius could feel his lips twisting into something of a smirk, his lecherous side slowly revealing itself. Hetrius lifted an eyebrow at the human's antics, Iverrius inconspicuously pointing to just what had held his interest and caused him so much amusement.

Understanding Iverrius' debauchery at long last, Hetrius exchanged a glance with the human before indulging himself, the two men hardly able to retain their quiet façades meanwhile. Beginning to snicker, the two men finally allowed their amusement to be known to the rest of their party, Aeferiel turning on her heel. The look now settling over her features was enough to warrant an explanation, Verianna and Ehliara piecing together what had occurred and flushing, from anger and embarrassment respectively.

"Perhaps Duncan's warnings about my health are wasted on you; I know neither of you care much for my life, but if you must ogle the women in the party, have the courtesy to do so discreetly," Aeferiel's tone was furious, her lip curling as she fought to keep her anger under control.

Verianna nodded in full agreement, her blush noticeably gone from her fair cheeks as she glared at the men in question. Ehliara, however, remained quiet, her cheeks still crimson and her eyes averted from the two. "Suffice it to say that if something of this nature occurs again, neither of you will be pleasuring yourselves or others for as long as you remain alive, which I am certain will not be long if you remain acting like adolescent shems," Aeferiel finished her tirade, a vein throbbing in her neck.

Feeling like a mother who had just disciplined her children, Aeferiel turned and continued moving, the familiar male snickering forcing a sigh from her lips before she turned on her heel once more. Her face void of emotion, Aeferiel did not speak as she neared the two in the back, her hand lifting before backhanding the mage who staggered and struggled to remain on his feet. Wide blue eyes looked at the Dalish disbelievingly, Hetrius' pride hurting far more than the reddening mark on his cheek.

Aeferiel's glare morphed into a look of disgust once she turned her gaze onto Iverrius, the human noble standing proudly in front of her, his chest puffed out in a display of his supposed strength. "Aeferiel, please. Don't," Ehliara was at the elf's side a moment later, her pleading eyes meeting Aeferiel's hardened ones. Ehliara's hands had grasped Aeferiel's lifted one, the Dalish finally nodding once and retracting the threatening stance.

"Need I remind you of our mission? What if the darkspawn were to attack while you were doing that! You would both be dead before you could ready your weapons," Verianna took up the verbal lashing, Aeferiel turning from her companions and beginning to walk yet again. She honestly couldn't have cared less about the men and their ogling, but if they were to travel together for an extended period of time, then breaking such repulsive habits before they escalated was preferable.

Hetrius looked much like a scolded mabari pup for the entirety of the day, Aeferiel not noticing while pressing onward towards Ostagar. Though, Hetrius couldn't figure out one thing while they walked, and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. Why had he been the only one to be hit? Iverrius had started the whole mess in the first place! I sound like a child, Hetrius winced at his inner monologue, the sting from Aeferiel's rather powerful hit not having abated entirely yet. Needless to say, the mage's eyes didn't wander any more that day.

--

"Aeferiel," Verianna tried to gain her leader's attention, the Dalish either not hearing her name or simply ignoring what she assumed would be yet another plea for them to stop and make camp for the night. Aeferiel knew well enough that her body was wearing down, the feel of the taint nearly making her physically ill at times. Of course, none of her companions mentioned it if they noticed at all, not that Aeferiel minded.

"There is a clearing beyond the road up ahead," Aeferiel answered Verianna's tacit request, the others internally thanking the Maker that their taskmistress was nearly finished for the day. "A river is nearby as well; had we not made it this far, I fear we would have had little to quench out thirst," Aeferiel mumbled her explanation, her scouting abilities hardly anything to belittle.

"How do you know?" Iverrius asked a bit skeptically, Aeferiel pausing mid-step before continuing.

"My clan has moved throughout all of Ferelden, and I have learned well in the time I was still with them," Aeferiel answered quietly, the reminder that she would not be returning to them anytime soon a painful one.

The remainder of traveling that day was quiet, the group happening across the clearing Aeferiel mentioned not thirty minutes after she had informed them of their objective. Setting down their packs, all of the group save Aeferiel began popping joints and rolling their necks, the journey a tiring one and one that lasted longer into the day than they all had anticipated. "We have much work yet to do before we can relax and rest," Aeferiel told them, Hetrius resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I will go and hunt; Ehliara, I trust you can fill the buckets with water. Iverrius, I assume you have pitched a tent, and leave that task to you. Verianna, you and Hetrius will collect firewood and start the fire once you've enough kindling to start burning," Aeferiel barked out orders quickly, nearly without thought. The river Aeferiel had mentioned lay but a few feet away, its shimmering waters pristine, pure, and nearly beckoning all who gazed in its direction to drink without restraint.

"Aeferiel, once I finish drawing the water, surely I can gather the firewood with Verianna. Would it not be wise to allow someone to hunt with you, so you can better bring back what you find? Surely you cannot carry more than two or three animal carcasses alone, and that will hardly feed us all," Ehliara made a point, Hetrius realizing just what she was implying.

"Are you trying to get me killed, Ehliara? Or have you forgotten how much she despises me?" Hetrius countered, Iverrius chuckling under his breath. The mage was not honestly afraid of the Dalish elf, though her temper was indeed a force with which to be reckoned.

"'Tis not I who has strained our relationship thus far, mage," Aeferiel reminded him pointedly, Hetrius swallowing whatever retort was poised on his lips moments before. Aside from the snide and snarky comments, Aeferiel was correct; it had been Hetrius who had helped Jowan escape, Hetrius who had leered with Iverrius, and Hetrius now who was nitpicking over negligible camp duties.

"All right. I know better than to argue with women," Hetrius acquiesced, his hands lifting in a placating gesture.

"We shall return soon," Aeferiel then informed them, her bow clutched in her hand as she indicated that Hetrius should follow.

"How long do you think Hetrius will last before Aeferiel shoots him with an arrow?" Iverrius asked with a crooked grin, Verianna shaking her head with a smile.

"I dare not think it. Besides, Hetrius is not altogether incapable; he was rather decorated enchanter," Ehliara spoke up, her footsteps leading her between the two and towards the small river at the edge of the camp.

"Maker help us all," Iverrius then mumbled, the material of the tent stretched out and ready to be pitched.

"I doubt very much the Maker will have any say on what Aeferiel does to Hetrius," Verianna added with a smirk, the elf traipsing away from camp into the forest in her search for firewood.

"True indeed," Iverrius added quietly once the elf had vanished into the tree-filled forest, Ehliara bringing a bucket of clear water and setting it near the pit where the fire would inevitably be lit.

--

Hetrius had been following Aeferiel for what seemed like hours now, the sun nearly hidden below the horizon as the mage stumbled over an aptly placed twig. Hearing the sound, Aeferiel quickly stopped and turned to her companion, her unhappiness prevalent. "Perhaps you are trying to scare away all my prey so that we go hungry tonight," Aeferiel stated flatly, Hetrius returning the look silently. He had never done this before; Aeferiel would have been better off taking someone more experienced in this field.

About to take another step, Aeferiel's arm reached in front of the mage's face, stopping him mid-step. Inclining her head, Aeferiel's arm instead moved back to the quiver on her back and grasped an arrow quietly. A hare sat but a few feet away, its pink nose twitching and its ears standing up once it heard the arrow move from the quiver.

Hardly daring to breathe, Aeferiel notched her arrow and released it swiftly, the animal dead before it even fell limply to the ground. "What are you waiting for?" Aeferiel then turned to Hetrius, the mage still in shock at how swiftly it had all occurred.

"I thought I'd wait until the Maker returned. It seems far more likely than ever hearing anything pleasant pass your lips" Hetrius retorted with a glare, Aeferiel merely rolling her eyes while the mage retrieved the hare's carcass.

By the time Aeferiel had tired and the stars had begun to appear in the sky, the duo headed for the campsite, the flickering of flames serving as a beacon and leading them back without difficulty. Three pairs of eyes lifted once they arrived, Aeferiel indicating that Hetrius give the rabbits to Iverrius to be cleaned.

"You look positively exhausted," Ehliara admonished, a small tin cup full of water ready and waiting in her hand. "You are sick, Aeferiel. You need to rest more than any of us," Ehliara continued, the Dalish hardly noticing as she greedily sucked down the fluid. Begrudgingly, Aeferiel saw the point Ehliara was making, though was loathe to admit such a weakness.

"Very well. I have no qualms with relaxing whilst the rest of you work," Aeferiel smirked, the Dalish removing her bow from its position on her back and taking a seat on the ground comfortably.

"I may not be a healer, but I am capable of creating potions that could help you if you desired," Ehliara then mentioned, Aeferiel blinking at the mage before tentatively nodding in her direction.

"I would appreciate that," Aeferiel murmured quietly, Iverrius returning moments later and placing the meat strategically above the fire for it to cook.

--

Iverrius took up the first watch that night, the next day hardly different from the first. Ehliara had insisted Aeferiel slow her pace and rest more regularly, the elf unhappy though allowing herself to be manipulated. There was no arguing with the younger mage when her mind was set on something.

As the group traveled, however, Verianna could see the slow bonds of trust form between her comrades, though they would be hard-pressed to admit the existence of such things. The duties when the group found a suitable site for camp had been understood, no one questioning what his or her duty was, especially to a worn out and irritable Dalish elf. Which isn't far from the norm anyway, Verianna added inwardly with a sly expression, Aeferiel lifting an eyebrow in her direction before Verianna continued observing.

Aeferiel had told them they would be arriving at Ostagar the next night, or the morning after if things didn't go as smoothly as she anticipated. Verianna was admittedly glad to be finished with the traveling, though had a sneaking suspicion that their traveling days were far from over. She kept that opinion to herself, however; the others would no doubt mock her for her ridiculous, albeit justified paranoia.

The next morning was clear, birds chirping merrily in the treetops much to the chagrin of the party who would rather be sleeping before sunrise occurred. Verianna could hear Iverrius' groan in the other tent, Aeferiel tossing at her side. No doubt Ehliara had already risen and bathed in the river to avoid the men's peeping eyes.

Readying herself with her swords and armor, Verianna exited the tent just as Hetrius emerged, the other elf yawning before nodding in her direction. Ehliara was already packing the leftover dinner from the previous evening, the fire doused from the water they had procured from the river. Aeferiel exited the tent a few minutes later, her skin pasty and her eyes sunken as though from a fever.

Lifting her eyes, Verianna frowned as Ehliara made her way to their leader's side, the mage offering her the last portion of the potion she had brewed the previous evening. Downing the medicine in a single gulp, Aeferiel's complexion did not appear to alter much before she began tearing down the tent, Ehliara helping her in the endeavor.

They all left the camp roughly an hour later, Ehliara in the front at Aeferiel's side. Verianna's lips remained purse as she continued forward, the anxiety of her companions making her tense as well. Ear twitching, Aeferiel stopped abruptly, her eyes narrowed as she drew her bow and poised an arrow towards the forest on either side of the road.

Taking the initiative, her companions followed suit, Verianna out in front since she was the lone melee fighter among the bunch. Apprehension slowly abated as adrenaline replaced it, monstrous and grotesque creatures suddenly springing from seemingly everywhere at once. "Kill the monsters!" Aeferiel shouted, releasing arrows as quickly as she was able and felling a line of darkspawn as they drew nearer.

Iverrius was at her side, his crossbow making quick work of more that suddenly appeared from the brush. Hesitating only to reload his weapon, Iverrius stifled a groan when an enemy arrow struck his shoulder, blood trickling from the wound and down his armor.

Gripping her stave tightly, Ehliara released a wave of energy, all darkspawn caught in the field remaining stunned for a time before she slowly began to pick them off with aptly-aimed spells and a few Crushing Prisons. Exhausting her mana rather quickly, Ehliara evaded a sword when it was leveled at her chest, the mage tripping over her long robe and landing painfully on her backside.

Moving to shield Ehliara from more melee fighters, Verianna tightened her grip on her blades before decapitating a darkspawn that stumbled too close, her attacks each seemingly transitioning from one move to another. The movement was fluid in its execution, only a wave of five darkspawn simultaneously able to overcome her skill.

Quickly casting a disorienting spell on most of the darkspawn that attacked Verianna, Hetrius proceeded to cast Horror, the monsters twitching and contorting in odd shapes before falling to the ground, lifeless. Hearing a familiar groan behind him, Hetrius turned in time to see a darkspawn bring its blade down upon him, the elf quickly bringing up his staff to block only to see the creature falling forward, the arrowhead visibly protruding from its chest.

A shrill cry of pain pierced the air when Aeferiel fell, a darkspawn sword slashing her to the ground easily. Crying out in a blind rage, Verianna quickly stabbed the offending monster and continued hacking and slashing, blood covering her face and no doubt staining her armor as well. The darkspawn then retreated tactically into the trees, the sounds of arrowing whizzing into the clearing forcing Hetrius to action.

Bending to his knees and skillfully evading the arrows, Hetrius could only hear the familiar cries and whimpers of pain when he grasped the handle of a forgotten dagger. "Die, foul creatures!" Hetrius then shouted, the elf piercing the skin on his hand until blood began to flow. Grimacing from the pain, Hetrius concentrated his attack against the remaining darkspawn, the blood magic proving powerful and killing all the bastards in a single wave.

Ehliara had noticed the attack, though could not formulate the words or sounds to express just how she felt about the situation. "Hurry! We have no time to lose," Hetrius urged his companions, the elf suddenly at Aeferiel's side. Turning her over carefully, Hetrius began to bandage what he could, the Dalish ending up in his arms for the remainder of the trip to Ostagar.

Shaking, Ehliara limped over to Iverrius, the human's injuries no worse than her own. Wordlessly winding an arm around her waist, Ehliara was thankful for the balance he provided, Verianna only sporting a few scrapes and slashes that thankfully did not penetrate her skin deeply.

The continued journey to Ostagar was quick, precise, and Hetrius found he didn't much care what happened to himself. He was sure Ehliara would yell at him endlessly for using blood magic, though it had saved their hides and he would not hesitate to point out the fact. Even she would have to see the use for such a magic in such a dire situation.

"Stop! Who goes?" a guard stationed at the entrance of the camp at Ostagar asked, Hetrius irritated from the question despite his understanding of the necessity of such a query.

"Aeferiel had a note from Duncan, Hetrius," Verianna reminded him, the guard blinking lamely at the group, apparently recognizing the name.

"We are in desperate need of healers, in case you hadn't noticed," Hetrius then added with a glare, the guard nodding before indicating towards Wynne and other mages who had assembled near the entrance of the camp.

"Go get Alistair. There's a note here from Duncan," the guard spoke to an elf courier running around the camp, the elf nodding quickly before running away to find this man.

--

"Orzammar welcomes you, Grey Warden. King Endrin Aeducan has been anticipating your arrival. This way, if you please," one of the guards to Orzammar's entrance beckoned Duncan to follow, the Grey Warden nodding before following the guard through the Commons towards the Diamond Quarter.

[Admin]

Tapster's Tavern buzzed with all the drunken conversation, nobles hitting on lower-caste women and some poor sods falling over themselves to get out of the door and to their mothers, no doubt. It was a typical day in Orzammar, or it would have been had Beraht not been in such a dour mood after his findings concerning Oskias.

As it happened, however, Raphenov Brosca found himself at a table in that very tavern, Leske at his side as they continued conversing with the dirty rat who had been holding out on greedy Beraht. Raphenov didn't like Beraht if he were honest, but his sister would suffer the consequences should he fail the Carta once too many times. And in Dust Town, once was beyond the limit of accepted failures. "So, get into any good business lately? I'd sure like to get out of Beraht's holdings, if you know what I mean," Raphenov openly joked, Leske joining in on the laughter to make their façade appear more convincing.

Oskias looked hesitant for the briefest of moments, Raphenov noticing the shift though not blatantly expounding upon it. Better to lull his enemies into a false sense of security before striking, swiftly and deadly. "Actually, the sub rosa lyrium business with the mages...," Oskias' voice trailed off enticingly, Raphenov leaning closer to the table with a glint in his grey eyes. "Don't tell Beraht, but I've been keeping back a few pieces of the ore to sell for myself," Oskias looked understandably worried, his eyes circling the tavern to ensure no one had overheard his confession and readied a bow to strike him down in Beraht's name.

"I'd say that's enough, wouldn't you, Leske?" Raphenov then leaned back in his chair, his cold eyes surveying the traitor with disgust. "You'll hand over all you've kept back, Oskias, and I'll think about letting you walk out of here with just a limp," Raphenov growled quietly, the dwarf in question squeaking some apologies before scrambling to his feet, his hands immediately reaching for the packs hanging off of his shoulders.

Looking over the pieces of ore meticulously, Raphenov turned to his partner before eying Oskias, the coward shaking from his own fear. "Put the sodding brand out of his misery. Beraht doesn't need questionable trust from lowlifes like this," Raphenov lifted his nose in the air as though Oskias was a mere smell that had offended him, Oskias crying out one final time before Leske was at his side.

"Let's go. Beraht will want to see this," Raphenov mumbled just loud enough for Leske to hear, none of the other patrons even noticing the body bleeding on the floor. "Sodding bastards," Raphenov spat, his disdain for the nobility of his race apparent.

--

"My Lady?" Gorim stood at the door of Serrahmir's room, the princess turning to her second-in-command with a slight smile. "The King requests your presence at the banquet as soon as the Provings in your honor conclude," Gorim informed her dutifully, Serrahmir nodding before moving past him into the hallway.

"Where are my brothers, Gorim? Do you know?" Serrahmir asked as her pace quickened, the princess wanting to at least make it as far as the Diamond Quarter before being stopped by her father or a messenger.

"They were not in the throne room with your father, so I cannot say," Gorim answered, Serrahmir's lips pursing at the answer. It wasn't surprising that Trian would defect from the ceremony, especially since they weren't on the best of terms at the moment. Princess Aeducan's face contorting strangely, Gorim interrupted the silence and his Lady's thoughts, "Something...troubles you?"

Blinking, Serrahmir looked over at Gorim, a sad smile present on her lips. "Sorry to trouble you, Gorim. I am fine, no need for worry," she assured him, the two finally exiting the Royal Palace. Shops and stalls littered the otherwise clear pathways of the Diamond Quarter, Serrahmir finding the setup more to her liking than the other quiet standard, town criers beside the point.

Two dwarves in particular caught her attention as she meandered the walkways, one apparently a noble and angry by the sound of his voice. "What appears to be the problem here?" Serrahmir inquired, approaching the two with an even voice.

"This scholar has degraded the namesake of my house! I demand that his writings be burned!" the noble exclaimed rashly, the scholar's face losing color as Serrahmir's lips pursed.

"That is a strong accusation. What have you to say in response?" Serrahmir then looked to the other, clearly-frightened dwarf.

"I was merely recording what the Shaperate says, My Lady. It was not my intent to anger anyone, just record history as it is," the scholar explained, Serrahmir exchanging a glance with Gorim.

"I'm afraid this scholar was merely doing his job; had you any evidence of tampered history, I would be more inclined to believe you. As it stands, however, you are to leave this scholar alone," Serrahmir spoke firmly and evenly, the noble bowing his head at her judgment before mumbling under his breath as he walked away. "He shouldn't bother you any more," Serrahmir then told the scholar with a friendly smile, the princess continuing her path towards the Commons where the Proving Arena stood.

"Just as always, my Lady," Gorim obviously approved of her cool thinking concerning the situation, Serrahmir's smile fading slightly as she chuckled.

"Enough with the flattery, Gorim. Only those with malicious intentions flatter needlessly, after all," Serrahmir added quietly, her lips quickly turning into an acknowledging smile before she was hailed over to a booth. "Is there something you wish of me?" Serrahmir asked, her eyes glossing over the smith's wares appraisingly.

"I tried to send this dagger to you in the palace, but my servant was thrown out by Prince Trian. I had him severely beaten; he must have offended your brother in some manner, and regrettably you did not receive the dagger. But, here you are," the merchant was rather excited by the prospect, Gorim taking the dagger from the merchant before inspecting it expertly.

"Its craft is fine; it is a blade worthy of you, if I might say so, my Lady," Gorim presented it to Serrahmir, the princess turning it over many times in her hands.

"Thank you. I will accept this, and hope my brother does not notice," Serrahmir added with a wink, the shopkeeper nearly tripping over himself as he waved goodbye. "No doubt that merchant will be seeing much business as people begin to notice my new weapon," Serrahmir murmured to Gorim, the princess able to see through such meaningless gifts after many years of supposed political compromises.

"Ah, sister, shouldn't you be attending the banquet at the palace right about now?" Bhelen commented from further down the walkway, Trian at their younger brother's side.

"Yes. We wouldn't want our sister to miss her own party," Trian added, his tone betraying just how ridiculous he saw the entire occasion.

"I will return, dear brothers," Serrahmir answered, her tone sweet and bordering on insincerity. "Allow me to remind you that a Proving is being held in my honor, and it is only proper that I attend," Serrahmir reminded them, Trian hardly able to stifle his eye-rolling.

"Then I suppose we will see you later," Bhelen nodded at her before the two brothers bypassed Serrahmir and Gorim.

"I wonder if Trian awoke to a Bronto invading his room this morning," Serrahmir noted dryly, Gorim staving off the urge to laugh at the remark. "At any rate, let us not keep my adoring public waiting," Serrahmir grinned at her second-in-command before heading through the doors to the Commons.

More merchants and commoners of lower castes loitered about near the entry, Serrahmir feeling horribly out of place with her royally crafted armor shining for all to see and recognize. Her steps hastening unconsciously, Gorim increased his pace to keep up, a few passersby hesitating in their steps and subsequently gaping at the royal visitor.

It took but a few more moments before they approached the Proving Arena, a few of the participants wandering about the corridors before their fights. "My Lady Aeducan! Have you come to watch the Proving?" the Master asked with a smile as long as his raggedy beard, Serrahmir smirking before the expression morphed into a smile.

"I fear I find watching Provings not nearly as invigorating as participating. If you will allow, I would fight," Serrahmir respectfully placed her request, the Proving Master's gaze wide-eyed and dumb for a few moments.

"O-of course!" he then showed her the way to the field, many watchers already filling the stands and causing a ruckus.

--

"Go kill off Oskias, Raphenov. Go poison a guy in the Proving so I don't lose all my Stone-be-damned money, Raphenov. Put on the sodding lout's armor so I don't lose face, Raphenov," the casteless dwarf mumbled under his breath, his hands buckling the last of the armor onto his body. The idiot Beraht had placed his money on a sodding drunkard of all things, and he expected to win his money back and then some? This is stupid, even for you, Beraht, Raphenov finally donned the helmet over his head, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

"If it weren't for Rica, I wouldn't be mixed up in all this sodding Bronto dung," Raphenov griped one final time, his twin blades hooked into place on his back. "Here goes nothing," he then muttered to himself, the sound of the crowd greeting his ears as he stepped into the fighting grounds.

--

Serrahmir had progressed through the first few rounds with little difficulty, the crowd cheering on its princess with nothing less than complete, reckless abandon. A small, guilty grin wound its way onto her pretty face, her eyes lifting to the Proving Master's box as he announced the next fight. Not completely hearing when the Master began his speech, Serrahmir saw the silhouette of a human at Gorim's side, her eyebrows furrowing briefly before her opponent appeared.

Bowing politely at her opponent, Serrahmir fitted her shield onto her left arm, her eyes narrowing as she took her stance and unsheathed her sword. Two swords came clashing down onto her a moment later, the princess lifting her shield to block them both before jabbing at her opponent who stepped back mere moments before the metal would have slashed his skin.

Gritting his teeth, Raphenov conceded that his opponent was skilled, the woman deftly removing her shield from beneath his swords and making a circular, horizontal arc towards him as a counterattack. Swords clashing, Raphenov made a jab at his opponent's shoulder, the princess taking a step back once she noticed where the dagger was aimed.

Bastard, Serrahmir wiped away imaginary blood from her lip, her dark eyes narrowed dangerously as she surveyed her opponent. Only a desperate man attacked where armor was weakest, at least in the Provings. Grounding her feet into the stone, Serrahmir steadied herself before Raphenov attacked her with renewed vigor, the warrior sidestepping the rogue's attacks before noticing a very drunk dwarf waltzing into the Proving Arena.

"Who are you?" Serrahmir noticed the whispers and boos of the crowd as she learned that the drunkard was the one she had been intended to fight in the first place. "Show your face, you coward," Serrahmir could feel her eye twitching from the anger surging through her veins, Raphenov feeling a similar emotion as he toyed with how he should best go about his situation.

"I, a coward? Would a cowardly casteless show his face to the princess of Orzammar?" Raphenov then shouted, his hands hefting the helmet from his head before tossing it none-too-gently to the ground.

"What is this casteless doing, fighting in my Proving? Is this some conspiracy to dishonor me?" Serrahmir turned from Raphenov to instead look at the Proving Master, several sets of guards appearing at the entrances to the arena.

"Heh, conceited as ever, aren't you princess? Degraded to fighting against one who held his own against you," Raphenov spat in her direction, Serrahmir returning his glare though inwardly processing his comment. Despite the stigma of being casteless, Raphenov had indeed held his own against her, something most in Orzammar could not boast.

Not paying much more attention to Raphenov, Serrahmir couldn't help but notice the human at the Proving Master's side stoop down and whisper something which apparently offended the dwarf highly.

Quietly sighing, Serrahmir exited the arena before Gorim found her, the expression on his face enough to betray his sympathy and sorrow for being unable to help her during the ordeal. "I must...go to Father. The banquet will need to continue," Serrahmir murmured more to herself than to Gorim, the princess quickly leaving that part of the Commons for the Diamond Quarter.

--

"A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness," Serrahmir smiled at Duncan as he bowed to her, the dwarf instantly liking this particular human. "I watched your bout in the Provings earlier this afternoon, though I confess I understand little of your castes and the gravity of such a crime," Duncan spoke heavily, something obviously weighing on the Grey Warden's mind.

"I apologize for such a dishonorable display, Duncan. Might I ask what brings you to Orzammar?" Serrahmir then asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"I came here to recruit for the Grey Wardens, though my highest priority is to investigate the Deep Roads," Duncan informed her, her eyes widening.

"You are a Grey Warden? Father had not mentioned such a detail. I am honored by your presence, especially at my own banquet," Serrahmir inclined her head at him, the princess nearly overwhelmed. She had practically idolized the Grey Wardens upon learning of their battle prowess against the darkspawn and heroism in helping the dwarves.

"It is I who feel honored, My Lady," Duncan returned the gesture, Serrahmir finally turning and heading for her Father, the king predictably seated on his throne.

"Father," Serrahmir bowed at her father's feet before rising, the king's smile a wan one. "You had not informed me of our prestigious guest," Serrahmir indicated to Duncan, the king chuckling before replying.

"I know of your fascination concerning the Order, Serrahmir, and I had assumed you would run off to join their ranks even should I forbid you from doing so. Perhaps, especially so," Endrin Aeducan's eyes held a twinkle as Serrahmir laughed outright.

--

"Sodding bronto-licker," Raphenov spat on Beraht's body before exiting the shop, the casteless dwarf unsurprised by the high number of guards who had surrounded he and Leske mere moments later. "And here I thought I'd actually have to miss the lot of you. It seems as if we're throwing a party, all in my honor," Raphenov allowed his sarcasm to sound rather amused, Leske stiffening at his side by the sheer number of guards.

"I don't know how you get free, but you'll spend the rest of your miserable life in the jail, casteless cur," one of the guards scowled, Raphenov sighing at the statement. And to think, he had hoped to be back in time for the wonderful dinner his mother no doubt had made for him...

Raphenov was pleasantly taken off guard, however, when a human strolled up to the group, his deep voice speaking to the guard. "If you desire, I can take you away from this place. You will become a Grey Warden," Duncan offered, some of the guards gaping at he who had been given such an auspicious opportunity.

"My...sister," Raphenov mumbled, Leske clasping him on the shoulder.

"I'll make sure Rica stays safe, Raph," Leske promised, Raphenov giving him a knowing look that clearly asked whether he was sincere or implying something Raphenov would have to emasculate him for in the near future.

Almost as if on cue, Raphenov eyed a familiar figure running in his direction; "Rica?" Raphenov threw his arms around in her a tight, secure embrace. "I don't want to leave you," he then murmured into her hair, a few bitter chuckles sounding from her lips.

"I'll be all right, Raph. I might even have found a benefactor in a high place," she informed him with an impish smile.

"If you're sure...," Raphenov's voice trailed off, Rica's brother completely overlooking the last remark she had made.

"Go. I want you to be happy, Brother," Rica stated with a sad smile, Raphenov hugging her once more before eying Leske.

"See that she stays safe, or Ancestors help you, no one will be able to keep me from ripping you to shreds," Raphenov told his best friend with a friendly, Leske laughing skittishly before clasping arms with him once more.

"If you are finished, it is time we make for the Deep Roads," Duncan interrupted, Raphenov tensing at the information. "We will not remain there long, I assure you," Duncan promised, Raphenov seemingly put at ease by the revelation.

--

How had she gotten into such a mess? One moment, glory and honor were all but within reach, and the next...The commoner clothing she had been given to take the place of her armor had been itchy and uncomfortable to begin with, Serrahmir grimacing when she realized something wet had dampened the back of her dress.

"My Lady," Gorim appeared as a solemn silhouette in front of the cell, the princess standing and grasping the bars that separated the two. "They have exiled me to the surface, though I pleaded for them to allow me with you into the Deep Roads," Gorim seemed absolutely distraught, the princess patting his arm for reassurance.

"You sound far more melancholy about this ordeal than I, yet it was not you who were sentenced to death," she tried to lighten the mood, Gorim's features not shifting in the slightest.

"Good luck, my Lady. May the Ancestors watch over you," Gorim wished her well before being carted off by another guard, a few more standing in his stead before approaching the cell.

"Lady Serrahmir Aeducan, after being formally charged with treason and fratricide, the Assembly hereby sentences you to the Deep Roads, where you shall fall fighting the darkspawn. Your title and name have both been stripped from the Shaperate," one read off a piece of parchment, the princess noticing Lord Harrowmont among them.

Leading her to the doorway, Serrahmir steeled her resolve, the fear in the back of her mind beginning to show itself mere moments before. No need to show such a weakness now, Serrahmir reasoned, not about to give the dwarves more of a reason to dishonor her. "Your Father is ill...losing two children in one foul swoop is not easy. Tell me: did you murder Trian?" Harrowmont looked positively dire, Serrahmir's face remaining taut before formulating an answer.

"No, though it matters little now. Tell my father...I love him," Serrahmir allowed her façade to finally fall, her lips in a deep frown. "Goodbye, Lord Harrowmont," she then turned from him, the doors shutting behind her before she moved to what could very possibly be her final resting place.

The first few darkspawn were dispatched of easily enough, the thin material of Serrahmir's dress clinging to her body after being thoroughly soaked with blood. The armor on both genlocks thus far had been too badly mutilated for Serrahmir to wear, and so she had left both sets to rot along with the corpses they clung to so dearly.

"Lady Aeducan!" Duncan was surprised to say the least when he noticed the princess stumble upon him and the small group behind him. "What are you doing here?" the Grey Warden continued, Serrahmir swallowing before recalling the story which brought her here.

"I...am Lady Aeducan, no longer," she murmured, speaking the words forcing the realization to sink in and bringing forth the pain accompanied with it. "I would travel with you, away from this place, should you allow a traitor such as I into your party," Serrahmir requested humbly, her eyes never leaving the ground.

"Of course. The Grey Wardens always have a place for warriors of your caliber," Duncan gave her a sideways compliment, Serrahmir blinking before looking up at him wonderingly. He was...offering her a place amongst the Wardens? Perhaps her sentence was not such a curse after all.

--

Hetrius could only direct his irritation at the rather bumbling Grey Warden Ostagar had produced in the meantime, Verianna remaining silent in his company as Iverrius wandered the camp in hopes he would find the King and converse. "She'll be all right, you know," Verianna mumbled, Hetrius grunting in response, his arms crossed over his chest.

Their first battle, and the leader had been nearly killed; certainly Aeferiel was hardy and battle-worn, but Hetrius knew better than to believe the invincible front she had paraded in front of them. From his experience, those who displayed such demeanors typically were the most broken up inside, but who was he to question the fearless leader?

"Her bleeding has been stopped, though the taint has taken a greater foothold," Wynne appeared from the tent housing Aeferiel, her kind eyes looking to the Grey Warden briefly before she moved to her place with the mages.

"You have alerted the mages to ready for the Joining, have you not?" Ehliara appeared moments later, her gaze on him as well. "Was there anything else you require?" she continued, Hetrius pointedly looking at the Grey Warden who looked as though he had been hit by a paralyzing spell.

"She is to undergo the Joining with two others, Daveth and Jory; Duncan instructed me to lead them into the Korcari Wilds before the Joining occurs. Thankfully, that should only take a couple hours," Alistair, the Grey Warden, informed them, Hetrius glaring at the human.

"A few hours? Just how long do you plan to hope that she doesn't die?" Hetrius fumed, Verianna touching the mage's arm placatingly.

"I won't question Duncan's orders, Alistair, but do hurry in the Wilds. Who knows how long Aeferiel's body will last," Verianna spoke, Ehliara's lips pursing before she disappeared into the hut once more.

"Let me out! Move, Ehliara, or Creators help me, I'll move you myself," Aeferiel threatened, the Dalish appearing moments later. "I need not this insufferable babying. I will accompany you to the Wilds. I will not shy away from duty when it presents itself," Aeferiel stated flatly, Ehliara sighing at her side.

"She will not listen to reason," Ehliara rolled her eyes, Aeferiel turning and giving the mage a rather nasty glare. "I do not recommend letting her rove around the camp unescorted, let alone traversing into the Korcari Wilds," Ehliara stated flatly, Aeferiel turning to Alistair with an expectant expression.

"She will not be going alone, erm, Ehliara, was it? We'll be more quick with her helping," Alistair shrugged helplessly, the Grey Warden not wanting to be on the receiving end of Aeferiel's ire. "At any rate, we should be leaving soon," Alistair declared before turning around and finding the other two candidates for the Grey Wardens.

"Spineless, isn't he?" Aeferiel noticed with a small smirk, her fingertips moving to the sensitive skin of her newly-formed scar. "How bad..was it?" the elf then looked to Ehliara, the mage clearly agitated but keeping her voice even as she spoke.

"Wynne is a magical healer, if you'll forgive the term. She is quite capable, but even with her skills she was unable to avoid scarring," Ehliara enlightened her, the mage subsequently crossing her arms and leaning back on her right leg. "Tread carefully, Aeferiel. You should still be resting," Ehliara continued her reprimand, the Dalish waving off her concern before retrieving her bow and quiver filled with arrows.

"After the Joining is complete, I would like to know just what happened in the battle," Aeferiel tilted her head to the side, Hetrius swiftly looking away from her prying eyes. "I shall return in due time," she then added, the Dalish suddenly realizing she was not in charge anymore. It should have been a relief, a burden taken from her, but she found to her discomfort that she felt strangely...dispirited.

--

"Loghain, please. I've not forgotten your war strategies in the few moments between explanations," Iverrius recognized Cailan's voice before the king appeared within Iverrius' sight, the Cousland heir waiting patiently to be noticed and acknowledged.

"I hope your delusions of war do not kill us all, Cailan," Loghain's voice was gravelly, grim, and something Iverrius always found to be foreboding.

"If I might intrude," Iverrius finally spoke, the king looking up and smiling. "I can come back, if now is not a preferable time," Iverrius added, the Cousland noting the analyzing look the king's general now gave him.

"No, no. You are Bryce's youngest, yes? I assume you wish to know where you brother is; sadly, he is scouting in the Wilds and will not return until after the battle," Cailan cut swiftly to the chase, Iverrius frowning but not turning to leave.

"I have news, Your Majesty. Arl Howe has proven himself a traitor; he murdered my family the night Fergus brought my father's men here to Ostagar. He attacked when our men were away, and I barely escaped with my life. Were it not for Duncan, I surely would have been slaughtered as well," Iverrius finally finished bitterly, the keen statement leaving Iverrius feeling painfully exposed.

"Dead?" Cailan sounded genuinely surprised, his face contorting into one of outrage a moment later. "We will not let him get away with this, I assure you! Once the battle at Ostagar is won, I will turn my armies north and see justice done," Cailan finished with a clench of his fist. "For now, though, I can only recommend you vent your grief against the darkspawn," Cailan added, Iverrius nearly glaring at the king though retaining his careful mien.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Iverrius then bowed to Cailan before returning to his friends, Ehliara looking more sullen than usual. I don't even want to know, Iverrius decided with a sigh, his head in his heads as he plopped onto an old tree stump.

--

"Medic!" Alistair's shout resounded around the camp as he arrived with the Grey Warden recruits, Aeferiel comatose in his arms.

"What happened here?" Wynne frowned down at the elf, Alistair laying her carefully onto a cot aptly placed by the entrance to the Wilds.

"She collapsed when we finished the mission. The ritual is nearly ready, though; if you can get her conscious, then we can do the rest," Alistair promised, blood splotched along his splintmail and fair skin.

Wynne looked irritated, but didn't murmur a word as she cast her healing spell, Aeferiel's eyes fluttering open before she was overcome with a violent coughing spell. "Abelas. It seems I will forever be unable to enter the camp at Ostagar on my own two feet," Aeferiel attempted at a weak joke, Wynne looking stern before standing and returning to her post.

"Let's go before you pass out again," Alistair stated a bit flimsily. Because Maker knows you will pass out yet again after the Joining, Alistair could only grin at his own joke, Aeferiel either not noticing or ignoring the look.

The Joining's goblet was first given to Daveth, the man's intolerable flirtations and jokes irritating Aeferiel more than she cared to admit. She didn't feel much of anything when the man choked rather abruptly and fell to the ground motionless, only a small amount of sympathy for the man's plight permeating her outer layer of disregard. After invoking the Maker's name, Alistair then turned to Jory.

Wincing, Aeferiel could feel the crawl of the darkspawn creatures underneath her skin, her eyes shutting tightly as she fought off the feeling as best she could. I have made it thus far, 'twould be folly to die now, she reasoned, her own pain and quiet groaning drowning out the sound of Jory's painful cry. The pain and pressure abating, Aeferiel's eyes opened once again, Alistair giving her a wary glance. Swallowing, Aeferiel noticing Jory's cadaver had joined Daveth's, the blood pooling underneath his body giving away that their deaths were not incurred by the same thing.

The smell of darkspawn blood was not particularly appealing, though Aeferiel did her best to gulp down as much of the foul-tasting liquid as possible, the buzzing in her ears beginning increase in volume until she passed out for the third time that day.

Finally regaining consciousness, Aeferiel groaned quietly as she heard Alistair speak. "I'm glad at least one of you survived," Alistair sounded somber, Aeferiel pushing herself to an upright position before looking to the blond.

"The other...you killed him," Aeferiel stated, her tone not judgmental. "Why?" she then took the hand he offered and stood, Alistair sighing heavily.

"Once you decide to become a Grey Warden there is no turning back. At least, that's what Duncan says. He ordered it of me in the letter you brought, though I can't say I was particularly happy about it," Alistair nearly mumbled the last part, Aeferiel nodding once before turning to leave. "Whoa! Don't you have any questions?" Alistair's voice paused Aeferiel's movement, her head swiveling around to better see him.

"I assume the nightmares will be habitual?" Aeferiel answered with a question, Alistair nodding once. "I must return to the others...unless there is more required of me?" the elf than tilted her head to the side.

"No no. Nothing to see here. Now get going before they think you passed out again," Alistair laughed at his own comment, Aeferiel rolling her eyes before walking away.

"Ma serannas, shem," she then murmured quietly, Alistair thrown off balance by the words he could scarcely hear or believe.

[Admin]

Serrahmir had not noticed Duncan's other unsavory companion when she had encountered the Grey Warden in the Deep Roads, the ex-princess trying her best to not judge the casteless dwarf too harshly. After all, they were no longer in Orzammar; castes mattered little on the surface, and Serrahmir found this revelation a bit hard to take upon first understanding. Raphenov, however, decided he would never return to Orzammar were he given a choice; the Surface had opportunities that no one in Dust Town could even dream existed. Why didn't more casteless dwarves move to the surface? It was a better life than begging for scraps and someone's pity to keep bellies full or bodies warm during the night.

Nevertheless, Raphenov could sense Serrahmir's skittish attitude towards him, the branded dwarf hardly able to contain himself in her presence. She was entirely out of her element; he could admit a bit sadistically that her ignorance of the Surface World entertained him highly. Of course, he was no better versed on Surface life, but he was easily more receptive to it than Serrahmir who had been bred for glory and greatness at King Endrin's side her entire life.

Traveling south towards the soon-to-be battlefield, Raphenov felt a sense of urgency, a quickening in his blood that both excited and thrilled him. He supposed it was merely his initial reaction upon being on the Surface, but the fascination had yet to fade or pass just yet. He had noticed Serrahmir look at him sideways more than once, the lone female of the group always averting her gaze whenever Raphenov caught her looking. Duncan remained blissfully unaware of the awkward tension between his two newest recruits, or, Raphenov was willing to bet, Duncan was simply ignoring it with too much occupying his mind anyway.

Nights at camp were void of conversation though strangely disquiet, the chirping of crickets in the grass unnerving Raphenov enough to keep him awake. It went without saying that Orzammar neither had grass nor crickets, and it seemed the addition of such oddities was something he would simply have to become accustomed to, sooner preferable to later. Hearing Serrahmir shift while she lay in her roll forced another grin onto his face during those nights; it proved, if nothing else, that she also was as uncomfortable about the Surface as he was, even if she did not complain of it openly.

--

The ruins of Ostagar looked unimpressive as the trio approached, Raphenov's eyes trailing to the side as they passed the Tower of Ishal and ventured further towards the camp. His fingers twitched at his sides as they continued, the air filled with the murmuring of priests blessing the faithful and the shouting of soldiers practicing their melee techniques.

"Wow," Serrahmir breathed once they breached the camp, Duncan pressing forward.

"Where is Alistair?" Duncan questioned the guard at the bridge's post, Raphenov and Serrahmir exchanging a glance while the guard answered Duncan's query.

"Duncan," a familiar figure appeared in front of the group, the elf's arms crossed over her chest. "We've been waiting a while. It's good to see you," Verianna smiled, her hazel eyes twinkling from the sunlight. "We were starting to worry; Aeferiel's been especially quiet and harsh these past few days," Verianna joked with another smile, her eyes finally glossing over the two new recruits. "Oh! I apologize! What are you names?" Verianna tilted her head to the side, a few brown strands of hair falling into her face.

"We'll have time enough for introductions later, Verianna. I take it from your mention of Aeferiel that she has already undergone the Joining?" Duncan cut to the chase, Verianna's lips pursing.

"Yes, though neither she nor Alistair will tell us what became of Jory or Davies...Daven...I can't remember the other's name, I'm afraid," Verianna shook her head regretfully, Duncan's features set in a grim line.

"I see. Do you know where they are? I need to speak with them both," Duncan's voice was not noticeably changed from the news of the two men's untimely fates.

"I do believe Alistair was arguing with Aeferiel last I checked. Something about mages or something...I really cannot fathom why Alistair would voluntarily argue with her, though," Verianna couldn't help but chuckle at her own joke, the dwarves quite aware of their ignorance of the situation and aptly remaining silent.

--

"You blindly follow the Chantry," Aeferiel pointed out for what felt like the twentieth time in the conversation, the elf exasperated as Alistair rebuffed the statement.

"And you don't blindly follow whatever the clan's lore tells you? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black," Alistair mumbled the last bit under his breath, the elf merely rolling her eyes.

"My clan's lore does not beseech me to murder people simply because of a skill they possess," Aeferiel continued, her tone slipping more and more into one of irritation.

"No. You just killed whatever humans you stumble across," Alistair spat, Aeferiel stiffening and fixing the human with a stern and furious look.

"I have never murdered a human who did not deserve it," Aeferiel took a step closer to the blond, her violet eyes shining with murderous rage.

"Oh no? Did you allow the man to plead his case? Was he fairly judged?" Alistair pointed out, Aeferiel's lips moving to no doubt retort when Duncan appeared.

"Enough," the Commander stated flatly, the two instantly grimacing at their behavior. "We have enough to fight without in-fighting as well. I assume Jory and Daveth...?" Duncan's voice trailed off in an implied silence, Aeferiel looking away while Alistair nodded solidly.

"I see," Duncan instead turned his head to the dwarves who had found the other recruits. "You will take them out to retrieve more vials of darkspawn blood. I will trust each of you with a team on your own," Duncan paused, both sets of eyes glossing over the motley group in their vicinity.

"When do we depart?" Aeferiel broke the silence, her teeth nibbling on the inside of her lips.

"I will allow you all to become better acquainted, and I must also ask another task of you while out in the Wilds," Duncan answered enigmatically, Aeferiel's eyes snapping back into place. "There used to be a Grey Warden post out in the Wilds, and some sensitive documents remain in a cache hidden there. These documents are promises of aid from various places to the Grey Wardens during a Blight. I think it would be best to retrieve them," Duncan continued, Alistair and Aeferiel exchanging a glance.

"Why would the Grey Wardens allow such documentation to remain in the Wilds?" Aeferiel wondered aloud.

"It was assumed we would return. Now, go greet our newest recruits," Duncan ushered the youngest Grey Wardens forward, a half smile formed on his lips.

--

Raphenov had not wasted any time in chatting up Hetrius and Iverrius, the latter of the two not quite as taciturn as he first appeared. Predictably, Serrahmir had fallen into conversation with the remaining recruits, Verianna and Ehliara providing excellent answers to her questions regarding the Surface and its practices. "I've heard stories about Orzammar...do you miss it?" Verianna wondered aloud, Serrahmir visibly frowning.

"I do, but I am not welcome there any longer. Perhaps I will tell you why eventually," Serrahmir teased with a small smile, Verianna laughing heartily at the response.

"I suppose it is good to see such...closeness already, though laughing as a madman is hardly flattering," Aeferiel asserted, the elf garnering the group's attention quickly.

"Duncan has gone to speak with the King, leaving Alistair and I to ready you all for the Joining," Aeferiel explained concisely, more than one set of features hardening. "He asked that we introduce ourselves since there are so many, though traveling in the Wilds will take some time," Aeferiel finished, her hands cupping the underside of her elbows.

"So, be brief, in other words," Verianna translated, Aeferiel inclining her head. The group had assembled in a semi-circle off to the side of the camp, the nearest person the elven servant cleaning on the opposite side of the ruin. "I am Verianna Tabris. I hail from the alienage in Denerim," the city elf took the initiative, Aeferiel nearly flinching from the mention of such an undignified place.

"A pleasure, Verianna. I am Serrahmir and I am from Orzammar, though I suppose that was understood already," the female dwarf answered next with a light chuckle, her words carefully expressed to not betray her royal background.

"Ah, yes. I remember you, 'Serrahmir'," Raphenov added slyly, his tone of voice earning a raised eyebrow from Hetrius and Iverrius. "I also come from Orzammar; I am Raphenov Brosca, a former casteless," he announced with seeming pride, Serrahmir holding in the grimace that threatened her features.

"Ehliara Amell, mage of the Circle of Ferelden, until very recently at least," Ehliara spoke up moments later, her voice quiet though loud enough to gain everyone's attention. It was obvious from her downcast gaze that she was either deep in thought or incredibly shy.

"Hetrius Surana, reluctant Circle Mage and one-time escapee, until now," the elf smirked at the last bit of information, Alistair choosing that moment to chuckle awkwardly until Iverrius began to speak.

"I am Iverrius," he stated simply, Verianna frowning at the revelation. She clearly knew more than the rest of them, though none were particularly curious about each other's backgrounds. None of it all mattered anymore anyway.

"Aeferiel Mahariel, hunter and warrior of the Dalish," she murmured, beginning to see little point in the introductions. What good would it do them to know each other's name? They may very well perish in the Joining, and Aeferiel had no desire to pointlessly learn information only to not need it hours later. "This bumbling human and sorry excuse for a warrior is Alistair. He is one of the less experienced members of the Order, or so I am told," Aeferiel gestured to her side.

"Thank you for that, Aeferiel, but I fear you neglected to mention my smell or lack of hygiene," Alistair answered with a grin, the human earning an appraising look from the elf in question.

"An excellent point, Alistair. Be careful not to get too close, lest your lose your sense of smell," Aeferiel added with a small smirk, Alistair's jaw slack for but a moment.

"You know, you hurt my manly feelings with that talk, Aeferiel: all one of them," Alistair got the last laugh, Aeferiel wasting little time before reaching out a hand and promptly smacking the back of Alistair's head as one would a child. "Ow! That hurt, you know," Alistair grumbled, a gauntlet-covered hand moving to rub the now-tender area.

"I wasn't aware templars were permitted such manly feelings, Alistair," Aeferiel retorted quickly, short bursts of laughter from their companions forcing Alistair's cheeks to flush.

"That isn't what I meant and you know it!" Alistair attempted to defend himself.

"Maybe she thought it'd knock some sense into ya," Raphenov guffawed after regaining his breath, Aeferiel smirking triumphantly at the templar.

"Indeed," Aeferiel murmured approvingly, Verianna laying a comforting hand on Alistair's arm, the man in question now pouting quite visibly. "Regardless, we must assemble into two groups and venture into the Wilds to collect darkspawn blood," Aeferiel stated, Ehliara's eyes widening as Verianna gasped audibly.

"We're...to collect the blood of those...monsters?" Iverrius asked the question on everyone's mind, the noble stunned as he stared blankly at Aeferiel.

"Perhaps I stuttered...but yes. That is indeed our mission; best not to question it," Aeferiel returned with a small grimace. "Gather your weapons and armor, and meet here as soon as you are ready," Aeferiel then instructed, everyone in the group save Alistair nodding once before the group dispersed.

--

He had wondered how long it would take for Ehliara to get him alone; after all, he hadn't forgotten her reaction to his blood magic. Since that near-death experience, Hetrius had actually been thinking of logical explanations to give the other mage in the group despite her natural revulsion for the supposed evil art. So long as he didn't use it on anyone other than himself, he didn't see the harm in it at all. Using blood instead of lyrium was how the first mages had begun their magic, wasn't it? Not that Hetrius was going to fall into their footsteps per se, but alas.

He heard her footsteps and saw her shadow before he took in her pretty features; her fair skin had no flaws that he could see, and her dark eyes were practically reflecting his own appearance back at him. A few blonde strands of hair fell at the sides of her face, Hetrius just then realizing she had been talking. "You did not hear a word I just said, did you?" Ehliara sounded vexed, her eyes rolling once before reiterating what she had spoken beforehand. "We need to talk about your...unorthodox spell-craft," she muttered, Hetrius lifting an amused eyebrow.

"My what? I wasn't aware blood mag-" he was abruptly cut off when Ehliara lifted a hand to his lips, the female mage obviously not wanting any others to overhear their conversation.

"Have you any idea what someone would do should they hear of it?" she hissed quietly and between clenched teeth, Ehliara having a point though Hetrius was loathe to admit it. "When will you tell the others? Verianna and Iverrius have not mentioned it, though Verianna was not looking in your direction when it occurred and Iverrius' vision was hazy," Ehliara whispered, Hetrius inwardly rolling his eyes.

"You worry overmuch," Hetrius stated, the elf running a hand through his bangs. "I didn't plan on telling the others," Hetrius then informed her, Ehliara's eyes widening.

"If you do not, then rest assured I shall. The others should know they are fighting with a maleficar," Ehliara looked as though she had allowed poison to settle on her tongue when she spoke the word, the blonde quickly shaking her head before continuing. "...You. You taught Jowan blood magic, didn't you?" Ehliara then asked quietly, her hand clenching into a fist and shaking slightly.

"What does it matter? He didn't exactly run from the prospect when I offered it to him," Hetrius rebutted with a sneer, Ehliara looking up at him with a fierce expression.

"You ruined him, Hetrius. He had to flee the Circle because of you," Ehliara seethed, her small hands clutching the front of his robes as she stared angrily and unflinchingly into his eyes. "He was a good man, and you corrupted him with your blood magic," she continued with a snarl, Hetrius losing his composure for but a moment.

"'Twas not I who forced him into a relationship with an initiate of all things, though I guess you were a big influence in that regard, were you not?" Hetrius threw back at her, his hands prying hers off his robes when they began to smolder dangerously.

"I-I never...," Ehliara stared at him, horror-stricken.

"Don't deny it, Ehliara. All of the Circle knew of your infatuation with the templar, and of his with you. Why else do you think Greagoir would have forced him to carry out the final blow had you failed your Harrowing?" Hetrius rasped, Ehliara taking a step back, her lips parted in silent, horrific realization. "Greagoir wanted to break Cullen of his silly infatuation with you; he wanted to make sure it never went anywhere," Hetrius continued, Ehliara finally turning from him and running in the opposite direction, silent tears streaming steadily down her cheeks.

--

"So, how will we separate them into groups?" Aeferiel wondered aloud, her arms crossed over her chest as her head swiveled around to view Alistair.

Lips quirking to one side, Alistair took a few moments before responding; "Well, I guess we should be practical about this. Even skills on both teams," he turned to meet Aeferiel's gaze.

"Sound stratagem. In that case, I will take Verianna, Ehliara, and Raphenov with me. Hetrius, Iverrius, and Serrahmir will venture with you," Aeferiel suggested, Alistair mentally picturing each recruit with his or her weapon of choice.

"I get the feeling there's more to your idea than you're letting on, but it is even from a logical standpoint," Alistair conceded with a sigh, Aeferiel's lips pursing at the human's flagrant mistrust manifested into the conversation.

"You have a better suggestion?" she replied curtly, Alistair quickly noting the menacing look now directed at him.

"That's not what I-" Alistair abruptly stopped his conversation when Ehliara came into view, her stave clutched in her hand. However, it was not the staff which had warranted his attention; "Have you been...crying?" Alistair murmured quietly, Ehliara's eyes lifting to his.

"I...don't want to talk about it," she whispered in return, Alistair looking torn between her response and his inherent feelings to make her feel better.

Aeferiel's eyes scanned the mage's features briefly, a soft expression chasing away her typically hard eyes and hardened countenance. "Now is not the time, Alistair," Aeferiel reprimanded him airily, the elf offering Ehliara a small smile before Verianna and Raphenov were in the group's sights.

"You are terrible, my friend," Verianna's smile was indulgent as she spoke to Raphenov, the dwarf merely laughing all the more heartily at her response.

"I've been called a lot of things, but never terrible," Raphenov retorted with a wicked grin and a wink, Verianna rolling her eyes at the suggestive nature of the remark.

"I fear I missed the joke," Iverrius appeared moments later, a crooked grin working its way onto his features mere moments later.

"Hah! Well, it's about this stupid human that visited Orzammar a few months back...poor sod couldn't hold his ale. Then again, maybe you would know the story," Raphenov lifted an eyebrow upon looking more closely at the human noble, Iverrius rolling his eyes.

"I have never been to Orzammar myself, though I would like to eventually," Iverrius confessed to his dwarven companion. "Though I find it rather...unnerving that you live under a mountain. Aren't you ever worried that it might collapse on top of you?" Iverrius then pointed out, Serrahmir appearing at his side with a quip.

"As much as any structures here on the Surface, from what I can tell," she interjected, Iverrius grimacing as both dwarves laughed.

"Ah, and to think we've all been here talking and getting along. I feel as though I were purposefully left out of the fun," Hetrius smirked, Aeferiel's eyes rolling.

"Rest assured you would indeed be left out if left to my discretion, but we have not the time for such idle chatter. Verianna, you, Raphenov, and Ehliara will be accompanying me into the Wilds. The rest of you will be ensuring Alistair does not hurt himself with his sword," Aeferiel couldn't help the jibe that erupted from her lips, Alistair's huff of indignation falling on deaf ears. "We are to secure a vial of darkspawn blood for each of you, and we are also to locate a hidden cache somewhere out there. Let us tarry not," Aeferiel quickly turned from the group before heading to the gates of the camp leading to the Wilds. "Be safe," Aeferiel then murmured before motioning to the guard.

And so it begins anew, Aeferiel thought with a deep intake of breath, her footsteps leading them all into the Korcari Wilds and what would hopefully lead to a better life for them all.