Author's Note: This is only the beginning of what may possibly the most epic mystery story in all of Thedas! Oh who am I kidding...I'm new to all this.
Helpful critique is welcome. Just try not to be tooooo harsh, I'm super sensitive ;-;
Thanks to Bioware for Dragon Age and allowing me to be someone else for a couple hours a day, the other authors on this site that inspired me to put my typing hands to some use, and AmstradHero for the mod Alley of Murders, which sort of rekindled my love for murder mysteries and inspired me to write this.
Prologue: Sustenance
Brendon let out a long sigh as he heard the copper bits in his coin pouch jingle. He had fifty silver pieces just three hours ago and managed to lose it all in one bad bet.
"I've got to learn to keep my gambling under control…" he scolded himself hopelessly.
He kicked up dust as he walked the moonlit alienage. The soft murmur of crying children, arguments, drunken laughter surrounded him as he slowly walked toward the apartments. He spotted a bleary-eyed man curled-up and sobbing in a corner. He knew better than to stop and try and help him. He is clearly disturbed but whether or not he was dangerous wasn't something he was willing to bet his life on. He snorted. If he could only apply this to his addiction. A piece of parchment flew into his face. He spotted the words "Bearing arms"and "die upon them" as he swatted it away. Stupid, paranoid shems. They prance around in their metal bits and swing their swords around, compensating for lack of brains possibly. Little did they realize that a desperate elf that can get his hands on something as primitive as a rock should be feared more than a twenty piece sword. Although that didn't stop most of them from smuggling in daggers and crossbows. He smiled as he patted the dagger hidden in his tunic. It was a small, rusty thing, but it served him well when it came to getting mugged. Not to mention now there were rumors of murders taking place in the alienage at night.
"All of them elves! Burnt to a crisp!" He had heard them say. Perhaps it was the Tevinters? It couldn't have been possible. The Wardens drove them off weeks ago. He shuddered as he turned into an alley. Rumors were only rumors. No point in locking himself away in fear. Still, the very thought was a bit unnerving. His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a shriek. He froze and listened. He heard someone struggling then unworldly noises. He heard another shriek only this time it was cut short. He ran, his heart pounding in his head. What in damnation…
He suddenly found himself face down in a pool of warm liquid. The smell of copper filled his nose as he quickly scrambled to his feet and looked into the eyes of the dying elf he tripped over. Deep gashes covered her entire body, spraying blood on and around her. He backed away slowly, nausea causing him to dry heave involuntarily. She looked at him and mouthed, what may have been her last dying words, "Help me". Her eyes dimmed. A cloaked figure went up to her lifeless body and crouched, touching his hand to her back. A red aura surrounding him as her face began to wizen. The man looked up at him and smiled. It had the ferocity of a snarling mabari.
"Oh Maker, spare me." He croaked as the man got up and walked towards him with that smile. His teeth were too white, his eyes void of any humanity. He snapped his fingers and with a spark, she began to ignite.
"Oh Maker!" he sobbed as he backed into a wall.
