Hidden Treasures

by lonemoonhunter

Dark clouds brew over Ferelden these days. An unfortunate merchant is being hunted by a mysterious blood mage, for an Icon he no longer possesses. The Grey Wardens have agreed to give him aid, joined alongside by the former General of the Inquisition. Together they must defeat the maleficar and uncover the truth behind the missing Icon, or fall victim to untold horror.

1. Ch 1: Reunion of Heart, Home, & Chaos

The Year is 44 in the Age of Dragon, months after the disbandment of the Inquisition, two years after the defeat of Corypheus and the new appointment of Divine Victoria, four years since the world shaking destruction of the Temple of Sacred Ashes and opening of the Breach, seven years after the Kirkwall Rebellion which sparked the beginning of the Mage-Templar War, and over ten years past the end of the Fifth Blight and Darkspawn Civil War.

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SOUTH REACH, FERELDEN

The road had been long and the journey weary. A cold rain drenched the land for nearly three days before it slowed to a drizzle. With the arrival of fall, and soon winter, the temperature was dropping and the days were growing shorter. Still the horse plotted at a leisurely pace down the beaten path of mud and murky puddles, hot air puffing from its nostrils, carrying the renown General of the late Inquisition. At his side walked a large, lean hound, nearly half the size of the horse, it's gray and white coat sleek from the rain. Cullen had a cloak wrapped around his armored body and hood covering his head in attempts to stay warm and dry. His legs, however, were soaked and he could feel the water slowly dripping into his boots.

Riding over the next slope, the General finally caught sight of his destination - the Arling of South Reach. It rested in a valley between the Southron Hills and Draken River, just west of the Brecilian Forest. A lone stone bridge accessed the farming outskirts of the settlement, gently curving over the currently quick moving river. The main proper of South Reach was further beyond, tucked behind a squat wall of stone and guard towers, and the Arl's Keep could be seen atop a short cliff on the southern end of town. The Arling is small in comparison to others, most of its population farmers and shepherds with a lumber mill and mine system being the other two major outputs of the small town.

Continuing forward, Cullen could see soft lights coming from the open shutter windows of the sturdy farmsteads, only a handful of people still working out in the dreary fields, and he could hear the occasional bay of hounds from within the walled settlement. He couldn't help but eye his own dog, the "pup's" pointed ears ever more alert and nose higher in the air. He first made his way to the broad stable located just outside the gatehouse. It was larger than expected, as it had a decent sized pen at its back between two rows of stabling. The smell of hay and manure was strong here, both drenched by the rain.

Relaxing in a rocking chair on the narrow porch, an older man was too busy smoking his pipe to notice the approaching newcomer until he was nearly at the base of the low steps and his horse let out a snort. Cullen easily slid off his mount, his boots plopping into the muddy ground, and calmly stepped forward to address the stable owner. The talk was simple and to the point - the horse was stabled, its packs removed, and the price kept reasonable. Cullen was quick to continue on his way, his hound right on his heels, both wanting to get out of the wet cold. The gatehouse was open to them and they entered unhindered. A pair of guards, clad in splint mail glinted with green Veridium, gave him a salute as he strode in.

South Reach was a peaceful place, though the grey skies and thin curtains of rain painted it in an almost eerie light. Long shadows waited in every corner and ally way, and nearly no activity graced the outdoors, leaving everything still and dark. The buildings appeared heavy, their foundations solid and logs thick, their forms compact and grouped in tight neighborhoods with little to no layout of organization. The roads, a mix of worn cobblestone and mud, were lumpy and filled with puddles, and moved with the natural curvature of the landscape. Cullen had to climb a slow hill, doing well to not slip in the mud, to reach the desired household on the other side of town.

The house rested not far from the eastern gate. It was a small building of brick and hardy wood, its corner beams etched with symbolic carvings. A low stone fence surrounded an herb garden off to the side, with an iron gate latched closed, and a covered wagon still holding freshly cut logs rested in the back. Smoke gently lifted into the air from the fire chimney. Cullen stood under the lip of the roofing, water falling down in small streams onto his back, and after a relieving sigh knocked on the solid door. He could hear shuffling inside, the distant clanging of iron pots, and soon the door opened.

A woman roughly a year older than himself, dusty blonde hair with just the slight hint of curls and eyes a rich golden brown, wearing a simple, but well-tailored dress stood before him. A smile crossed both their faces and she excitingly jumped up and embraced him in a hug. "Cullen! You made it, thank the Maker." She quickly ushered him inside, reflexively shaking her hands of the clinging water. "You're soaked! Don't tell me you've been traveling through all this rain? You trying to catch a cold?! (sigh) You've only just arrived and already you're causing me grief."

The warmth of the house was welcoming, as was Mia's sarcastic humor and protective nature. "It's good to see you too."

Once Cullen and his hound were inside, the large beast almost immediately shaking itself in attempts to get dry and sending Mia in a huff, did another body come to greet the visitors. Cullen heard his approach before the man entered, watching as he had to bow his head down when he stepped through the hall doorway. He was a heavily built man with thick arm muscles, dark hair pulled back and a healthy beard on a very prominent chin, and skin darkened by hours in the sun. Cullen recognized him as his brother-in-law, but they had not officially met yet. And almost immediately they began sizing each other up. Cullen noted him eyeing his silverite armor and the obvious sword at his side with suspicion, in addition to the large war hound at his back. He even puffed out his chest a bit to look bigger, more impressive. Perhaps Cullen was slightly intimidating to the man, despite his smaller girth? Or perhaps it was his intentionally calm demeanor that concerned him? Whatever the cause, his in-law had nothing to fear so long as he treated his sister right.

"Randol, this is my little brother Cullen." Mia introduced, stepping between the two resilient men and sweeping aside her husband's worries. "Remember, he was coming to visit?"

With a small bow of his head, "My apologies for arriving so late, I had intended to arrive earlier in the day. I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Cullen stepped forward and offered out his hand for a formal greeting, after removing his wet glove of course.

Randol let out a bold laugh. "Welcome!"

He grabbed Cullen's hand with enough strength it made him cringe and suddenly pulled him in a hearty hug. To say it surprised him, or made him feel awkward, would have been an understatement. In addition to the small level of embarrassment, his sister chuckling to the side, he felt like he was being grappled by a bear and was slowly losing air. He could barely twitch, and hesitated to touch the man to break free or even accept the hug. Luckily it was over as quick as it begun, Randol releasing him and patting him on the shoulder. The gesture was no less gentle, as Cullen felt he may have left a bruise even with his armor protecting him.

The next couple days were a fuss of warm family reunion. His two younger siblings, Rosalie and Branson, quickly received news of his arrival and paid him a visit as soon as possible - even waking him before the rise of the sun. Cullen also met his nephew for the first time, Branson's son Odri, a boy only a few years of age and full of mischief. More than once did the boy try and steal his sword so he could ride Pup into battle against the hordes of dire grasshoppers stalking the pastures. It was heartfelt moments mixed with anxiety, fond memories, and burning questions. They avoided asking Cullen about his time as a Templar, betraying their own curiosity, but they weren't afraid to ask him about the Inquisition, especially Inquisitor Adaar and other key members. They, primarily his sisters, also asked when he was going to find himself a wife. To which Mia and Rosalie pointed out a few choice bachelorettes in town.

Cullen was relieved to see his family again and once more be at their teasing, but he was also relieved to escape them. When he could, he spent most of his time relaxing, enjoying the outdoors, and playing with his dog. He would wander the town on the occasion, getting a good layout of its area, its people, and how it all fit together. He found an unintentional divide in the city, those inside the wall and those outside. The populas' majority were good, hard-working folk, but there was also a fair number of arrogant snobs - which unfortunately included the Guard-Captain. Regardless of their station, most commonly mistook Cullen for a Knight of the Silver Order thanks to his unique armor, which in no way was an insult, though some recognized him formerly as General. Two of the local guards were former Inquisition soldiers and the three were quick to reunite and he joined their group of friends. It then didn't take long for word to spread of his previous occupation and it garnered him even more (unwanted) attention, enough to even reach Arl Leonas Bryland. The Arl had sent him a letter of formal greeting and recognition, stating his gratitude and respect.

Unfortunately, it didn't take long for the War Hero to become anxious. He needed something to do. He managed letters and requisitions sent from the Sanctuary in regards to former Templars still suffering from withdrawal, but those were few and far between. Otherwise he tried to keep himself busy by helping out his family in their daily routines or offering guidance and tips to the city guards. As much as he wanted to help them in their work, and consequently do their Captain's job, he knew his place and didn't overstep his boundaries. Eventually, enough time passed to make him question how long he was going to stay. Was he going to make his life here? Build a home and settle down? Or was he going to continue to travel across Ferelden and offer aid to those who most needed it?

Cullen sat with Harrington and Virgil, along with their friend and fellow guardswoman Morgan, at the Roaming Bronto Tavern & Inn late in the eve. The place smelled strongly of ale, sweat, and wood. Its open floor plan was stocked with full tables and booths, busy and loud with laborers, farmers, and waitresses. There were a few hounds in here as well, begging for scraps under the tables or sheepishly following the trails. Cullen's Pup was no different, waiting patiently by his feet, giving his best puppy eyes and wide smile to the waitresses whenever they came by. And they came by often, giving him little snippets of food and commenting on how well-behaved he was. If not for the fact that they sometimes forget to bring something, Cullen would have believed that's why they always came to their table. His table.

There was an upper floor, a narrow stairway connected to a single balcony overlooking the west side of the tavern before leading down a hall lined with doors on either side, each of them rooms available for a quick stay. Cullen ended up renting out one of them, not caring to spend his entire time in town sleeping on his sister's couch and listening to her and her husband rocking in the next room. The beds were sturdy, but not the most comfortable, and on most nights it was quiet enough to sleep without burying his head under the pillow.

"Another drink, Ser Cullen?" the waitress asked. She was a bubbly youth, her fair skin painted with freckles and reddish hair thick with curls, at the age of trying too hard to look more mature or appealing, tightening her corset to where she could barely breathe and squeezing her chest uncomfortable close. She was sweet though. She was always there to welcome him in the morning and wish him sweet dreams at night.

"No thank you Fawn. I've had-"

"Damn right he does!" Virgil interrupted, the Marcher's voice loud and edged with an accent. The lean, clean cut man, almost sheepish in appearance, could always get someone's attention - despite the fact that he was sneaky as they come, a former scout in the army. With a cocky grin, "Keep 'em comin'!"

"Here you go!" Fawn giggled with pep, eagerly placing another frothy mug on the table before bouncing off.

Cullen paid her no mind as he gave Virgil a long look, but did not make any protest to the ale. He sometimes wondered if the wiry man was trying to get him drunk, to see what he was like when his wisdom ran out. That would be something to see, the great General of the Inquisition drunk with city soldiers, probably causing a mess and having to get arrested by other city guards. Varric would love to see that.

"You know she likes you, right?" Morgan commented out of the blue. She was a tall woman, her voice deeper than most, and she always kept a straight face - no matter the situation or conversation. She was very professional looking, dark hair kept short and eyes keen, but she could also be bluntly honest which didn't always work out well with her job. She reminded him of a little like Cassandra.

Cullen did not respond, but the shifting of his eyes told her he knew. He instead took a swig from his drink, only considering accepting the new one to drown out certain thoughts. It was quite obvious, anyways, how Fawn and several other waitress treated him. He regularly heard their giggles and gossip in the background whenever he walked by. At least they weren't as bad as the women in Orlais.

"Come on, Morgan. Don't go ruining the night with girl gossip." Harrington snorted with a wave of his hand, an attempt to dismiss the topic. He was a more rugged man than both Cullen and Virgil, his face sporting a growing beard, a scar across his brow, and a broken nose that healed over. He was roughly the same age of Cullen, the other two younger than they.

"It's not gossip. It is fact."

Harrington went on to argue the point, the conversation quickly losing interest to Cullen. He easily ignored the two, ignoring their quarrel over "romantic interests", dulling out their voices as he returned to his drink and glanced up at strangely quiet Virgil across from him. The guard's eyes were set elsewhere, not paying any attention to the arguing duo as well, and he silently signaled Cullen to take a look as well. His brown eyes had a suspicious spark in them. Turning and looking over his shoulder, Cullen spotted the person of interest - a dwarf dressed in merchant clothing and wearing a strained face. The squat man eyed everything and everyone with a level of fear, bordering on panic, yet he also appeared to be looking for something. The dwarf quickly and cautiously addressed the tavern owner behind the bar, slid him some coin, and hastily began making his way through the crowded room to the stairs, keeping his arms tucked in close.

Cullen gave Virgil a cautionary glance, both of them sharing similar thoughts on the newcomer. Something was off about him, like a shadow loomed over him or an invisible target hung on his back. He lacked the smug gruffness of the Carta, but that didn't mean he didn't have connections with them. And when he passed by, Cullen noticed his tailored clothing hadn't been washed in some time, stained with sweat and mud, and was tearing at the seams, and he looked exhausted. He may have had a conflict not long ago, an incident that sent him running for the hills - so to say. Whatever the case may be, he needed to be watched just in case trouble was following him. The dwarf didn't even stop to address the obvious guards at their table.

Harrington slammed his fist on the table, shaking the sturdy surface. "Bullshit! That's a lie and you know it!" He pointed accusingly at the guardswoman across from him.

"Lie or not, what's said is said. Don't accuse me of the source." Morgan casually answered, only her eyes narrowing in a testy sneer.

"What sources?! Who's been spreading this around?!" Harrington looked ready to shoot to his feet in outrage.

"Spreading what around?" Virgil jumped in, his ability to switch between suspicious guard to excited civilian remarkable. With a chuckle, "Sorry, I missed the conversation. We talking about "Doll-face"?"

"No!" Harrington answered too quickly.

"Yes." Morgan corrected.

Virgil laughed at Harrington's contorted and red face. Obviously he heard something on the topic. "Well don't leave me hanging! Spit it out!"

Harrington growled and buried his face behind a hand, nearly slapping himself with it. Morgan crossed her arms and stared at the man discontentedly, while Virgil sat at the edge of his seat in anticipation. Cullen hadn't a clue on what the subject was about, but he could speculate this "Doll-face" was a person of intimate interest to Harrington - embarrassingly so. There was a pause in their chatter, each waiting for a response, and that's when they felt the sudden hush that fell upon the tavern. Cullen and his companions turned their attentions outward to the gawking crowd. Everyone's eyes had turned to the entrance, murmurs and whispers escaping their normally loud mouths. Cullen twisted his head around to get a better view and was surprised to see three cloaked Grey Wardens standing at the front. Their blue and silver armor, along with the renown Griffon on their chests, was an immediate give away and it appeared that they too may have been in a recent conflict. At first glance that dark spatter could easily be mistaken as mud, but an experienced fighter knew better. Coincidence? Were they after the merchant that entered just minutes ago? If so, who was the antagonist - the dwarf or the Wardens?

One of the Wardens was busy speaking with the bar keep, a woman by judge of size and shape, and a mage. Cullen narrowed his eyes at the lightly glowing staff strapped to her back, new suspicions entering his mind. It was only a few years ago when the Orlesian Wardens tried to darken the world by succumbing to blood magic and, knowingly or not, aid Corypheus in creating an army of demons. Though the Inquisition had put a stop to that and cleared their minds of the falsehood they stumbled in, the memories and wounds were still fresh. Since then the Wardens haven't been seen in a good light in parts of Thedas, word of their betrayal written in song. He hoped these Wardens were different, that perhaps the Order in Ferelden was still "pure".

And then she turned around, following the gesture of the bar keep's hand, and Cullen instantly stiffened. He felt his heart sink and a lump clog his throat. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Hair a dark chocolate, pulled back in a loose up-do, leaving long bangs to frame her elegant face and alluring eyes - those brilliant green orbs capable of bearing into anyone's soul. He barely noticed that she too was wearing armor and had a sword at her hip, contradicting her true power. He did notice the large mabari calmly sitting at her side, bulky and bigger than his own hound. He could easily make out the gray on its snout and the gentle dull in its auburn fur.

When Kathryn smiled, even when it wasn't directed at him, he could feel the warmth and pleasure protruded from it. A flurry of renewed memories crossed his mind, most previously lost in time, fondness and a ping of guilt accompanying them. Then she began heading in his direction, her feet carrying her through the crowd. Cullen swiftly looked away - doing his best to not get noticed by the woman. A fear had struck him. One that he could not easily shake. He could pick out her footsteps on the wooden floor, even among the constant shifting in the boards thanks to the movements of the other occupants, and he listened as she drew closer and closer.

Pup could sense the strange nervous tension in his partner, so he paid close attention to the Warden and the other mabari as they approached. He let out a subtle, muffled growl of warning. It was too low for a human to hear, but the older dog immediately turned to him. The two beasts stared at one another for a handful of seconds, Pup ruffling up the fur on his back defensively. And then the duo walked on past, the auburn hound no longer caring to give the "pup" any attention.

Cullen tentatively raised his eyes to her back. There was an urge that nagged at him. To stand and reach out to her, to take her by the hand and spin her around, to look her in the eye once more and say… something. To say sorry or hello. Anything! Instead, he did nothing. He sat quietly at the table, watching her leave him behind like so many years ago. He fought the slack in his shoulders and immediately accepted the full mug in front of him. It wasn't until after he finished over half the drink, feeling the froth on the edge of his mouth, that he realized he was being watched. Virgil and Morgan were staring at him, the former holding a wide cocky grin.

"You have something to share, General?" Virgil snickered and passively scratched the tip of his nose, "You're looking a little red there."

Cullen felt his body tense. Was he blushing? He quickly pushed down his strange fluster and regained his composure, stating, "No. It's just the drink."

"Hah! Really? Cause I think-"

"It's just the drink." Cullen re-affirmed, the cold glare and harsh tone immediately severing the man's playful tease. When Virgil clamped his jaw shut and nodded his apologizes, Cullen stood from the table. "Excuse me."

He glanced over to the stairs leading up to his temporary quarters, then proceeded to make his way towards the door. He eyed the Wardens who remained, the two warriors having taken part in a game of cards with a few others - apparently they weren't strangers. The noise of the tavern had returned not long after their arrival, but it wasn't until Cullen stepped outside when he recognized it. The quiet somber of the night welcomed him with open arms and the chill in the air nipped at his skin, both drawing him away from the rest of the town. A deep sigh escaped him. He walked with purpose, marching beyond the protective walls and into the open fields of grass. It was here, where he truly felt secluded and free to let his mind wander without fear of prying eyes.

Cullen subconsciously acknowledged the warmth of his hound lying beside him as he sat in the knee-high grass, as well as the gentle chirping of the many insects and glow of the fire-bugs. His mind was flush with old memories and nightmares, past recollections that may or may not be warped by time, and buried feelings of a past he tried to long forget. He felt pain. So much pain. He sought out something positive, to cling to something warm and good. Her smile easily crossed his mind - renewed in his thoughts. So bright, so welcoming, so gentle. It effortlessly calmed nerves and eased sorrows. It brought comfort and hope. And even when just thinking about it, her smile soothed him.

Years ago, she would walk down those cold stone halls of the Circle tower and every time she passed him by, she smiled at him. There was no malice, no fear or regret. Whenever she looked at him, it was sincere. It was kind. She normally had her arms full of books and paper, sometimes heavy enough to turn her face pink. Many times he wanted to offer assistance, to help carry some of her burden, but he could not. Only once did he do so - accidentally.

Kathryn was running late to one of her sessions and when she rounded the corner, there he was posted. She fell back, bouncing off of him and his plate armor, and hit the floor. Everything she was carrying scattered, papers and books alike. It had startled him, his hand instinctively going to his blade. He stood over her, like an imposing menace ready to make a kill. And then she looked up at him and smiled - the same warm smile she would give him days on. It was the very first time they had met. The first time he laid eyes on her and she him. Amazingly, she had asked if he was okay, when it was her lying on the floor, vulnerable and at his mercy. He lost nearly all his fight, all his weary suspicions. He watched in stunned silence as she gathered up her things and returned to her feet. She dared look at him again, her brilliant green eyes attempting to find his face buried behind the helm. She apologized, her cheeks flush with embarrassment, and went on her way.

In her haste she had missed one of her books, "Paradoxes of the Fade" - or something of that nature. He took it. For several days he carried around that book, seeking to give it back. He could have easily ignored it or returned it to the library, but he did not. At the time he did not know why. Perhaps he felt sorry for thinking to strike her down, for thinking she wanted to cause him harm. In honest truth, he just wanted to see her again. To see her smile. The book was the only connection he had with her then. He hadn't learned her name yet.

Even when he got teased by some of his friends for his "choice of reading", which he did peer into the book from time to time, he held on to it. He found she had notes tucked away, theories and quotes folded to mark pages. She even had a few doodles on the back of them, which made him chuckle - they weren't very good. He found she was very curious, but cautious of the Fade. She weighed risks and problems with simple calculations, trying to determine if delving into the Fade was a good thing. Dangerous without a doubt of course. He had learned a good deal about the mage thanks to her sketches and scribbles, perhaps another reason why he kept the book.

It was nearly two weeks later when he saw her again. It was late in the eve, her candlelight catching his attention when all should be going to rest. She was studying, attempting to recall information she was missing. She looked distrait. He silently offered the book back and when she looked up to him… Her smile was more beautiful than before, warm like a kiss from the sun. She had asked his name and he couldn't refuse to answer. He couldn't turn and walk away. His knees were locked.

"C-Cullen… My name is Cullen."

She laughed at his awkwardness. He was a flustered youth back then, especially when around her. He would stutter and sometimes lose his nerve in her presence.

"I'm Kathryn, Kathryn Amell. A pleasure to meet you, Ser Cullen."

He let her stay up and study that night, even if protocol stated otherwise. Two days passed until he saw her again, and it was she who came seeking this time. She wanted to thank him and asked if he had a regular post. He had stupidly nodded and quickly dismissed her, his nervous fluster growing. And from then on, she took that route to her sessions, each time giving him a smile as she walked by. On occasion she would pause to talk, if the circumstances allowed it. They kept their distance, but it did not take long for the two to call one another "friends".

She wore her hair down back then, he remembered, reaching just above her collarbone and was lightly braided, and the blue robes looked good on her - the yellow robes not quite comparing when she was officially titled a Harrowed Mage. The memory of the apprentice mage he knew was a fond one, but it made the General's heart ache inside of him. Now she was a Grey Warden - a woman whose story he barely touched, a powerful mage equipped for war, and a renown commander in charge of a fabled Order. She has become far more remarkable than he could imagine. A woman out of his league.

As he sat somberly in the grass, his mind swirling with her memory, Cullen let out a weak laugh. "What am I doing out here...? Hiding? Running away like a child?" Again a chuckle escaped him. He was speaking to no one in particular, but Pup gave him his full attention. Cullen at last turned to his faithful hound and stroked his head, a weak smile on his face. "It's been... Maker, fifteen years since I've seen her. And she still weakens me so. We didn't even talk! … I doubt she even remembers me. And if she does, probably not in the best light. Maker knows I was unkind to her when…"

Cullen trailed off, painful memories of the Broken Circle returning to him. The dark whispers, the stench and rot of demonic infestation, the halls painted with blood, the screams… those horrid, spine chilling screams. He tried to shake it all away, to push them to the back of his mind and replace them with better thoughts, better memories. He thought of more recent times, though still far from peaceful it was a summer home in comparison to the fall of the Circle. Back when the Inquisition was at its height, Inquisitor Adaar paid him regular visits, checking up on the status of the troops and the progress of military tasks. Or just to chat. He trusted the Inquisitor, called him a friend, enough to share some of his deepest secrets.

"The Inquisitor… He asked me about her once." Cullen continued on, half speaking to Pup and half to the air. His eyes had drifted away again. "And you know what I told him? … That I was sorry. That I wanted to apologize to her, and tell her how much I appreciated what she did for me and everyone at the tower. That I don't... hate her."

Pup whined and cocked his head in response, a look of sympathy in those eyes.

"I should…" The dreary atmosphere lifted as Cullen began to laugh again, "And instead, I'm out here telling my woes to a dog."

Pup's bobbed tail, and consequently his butt, wagged in the grass and he let out a happy, "Boff."

He patted his hound's head. With a somewhat relieved sigh, "Come on, let's get out of here."

Pup jumped up in a single bound, bouncing around Cullen as he slowly came to his feet. He tried to wipe off some of the mud that now stuck to him, the moisture off the grass finally gaining his attention through his pants, and he shortly began to make his way back to town. He knew it wouldn't be easy confronting the woman whom he had cherished years ago, an unrequited love that he buried deep within himself, but he prayed for the strength to face her. He prayed for her forgiveness - if nothing else.

By the time Cullen returned to the tavern, it had only just been over half an hour and a good chunk of the occupants had left, which was strange. Normally it would be another hour or so before the crowd even began to disperse, but when he arrived he saw a large number of active guards present. Virgil and Morgan were standing outside, apparently back on duty, and looking none too happy.

"What's going on?" Cullen asked, a serious vibe in his voice.

Virgil turned to him with arms crossed, the cheer he had earlier in the night gone and replaced with bitterness. "You know that dwarf who just arrived? Apparently a group of "madmen" are after him and we've been assigned to keep an eye on him until the matter is dealt with."

"He's been on the run for the last two weeks and less than four miles from here he was attacked. The Captain fears he may have lured his assailants to town." Morgan informed him nonchalantly.

"AND! our new found friend doesn't want to be relocated to a secure shelter and has decided to lock himself in his room. Like it's any better." Virgil said begrudgingly, "So Harry's in there trying to talk some sense into him. I'm afraid you'll have to wait out here until we get this sorted out."

Cullen looked past the two through the open doorway. He could see Fawn and some of the other waitresses huddled behind the bar, while the owner was arguing with the Guard Captain. This was obviously bad for business. The remaining occupants were slowly filling out, but he didn't see them. "The Wardens?"

"Gone. They left shortly before all this began." Virgil answered, circling his hand around in gesture to the whole situation.

"I overheard them talking about searching the forest for clues. I don't know if it's related to the dwarf and these madmen, or something completely different." Morgan added on, which Cullen nodded his thanks to.

"I need my gear. I'm going after them." Cullen said bluntly. "If the Wardens are involved, then trouble is bound to follow."

Virgil nodded softly as he processed it. He then gestured for him to move past, "Go head. If the Captain gives you crap tell him to suck it." Morgan gave him a long look, which he shrugged at. "What? The man's a dick."

Cullen began to move past them, but as he neared the door Morgan halted him momentarily. "Do you suspect the Wardens?" she asked.

"I suspect they know more of what's going on. If Kathryn came here to speak with the dwarf, she must be trying to help him."

"Ah ha!" Virgil grinned widely and pointed accusingly. "You do know her!"

Cullen couldn't hold back the crack of a smile. "Of course. She's the Hero of Ferelden." Both Virgil and Morgan stared at him then, the former's jaw dropping and pointing finger falling limp. Turning back around to enter the tavern, Cullen made one last remark, "And she saved my life."

Inside he walked past the handful of posted guards and ignored the Captain as the man spat words in his direction, making his way up the stairs to his room. He passed Harrington who was leaning against a closed door and speaking through it, the guardsman merely nodding to him as he went by. Cullen gathered his necessary equipment quickly and donned his armor, hearing the muffled conversation of the guard and angry dwarf beyond his door. He made his exit within a handful of minutes. With haste he made his way to the stables on the other side of town. His horse nickered as he mounted and kicked her into gear. He needed to catch up the Wardens, they were nearly an hour ahead of him by now. Pup was running right behind him as they sped towards the depths of the Brecilian Forest.

The darkness was the first thing that assailed them, the lush greenery and trees blocking out the glow of the moon and stars, and many twists and turns cut off any direct lines of sight. Cullen had lit a torch to help cope with the encroaching blackness, even if it also made him a noticeable target. The ride was a continuous climb, at times becoming rocky and steep from the increasing earthy protrusions, forcing his horse to find alternate routes. Pup soon took the lead, nose to the ground and tracking the elusive group on a wild goose chase. It was difficult to keep an eye on his hound, but Cullen managed to stay on his trail - with the mabari's helpful barks of course.

The second thing to assault them was the cold. It was still early in the night, but it was cool enough to reveal their warm puffs of air and begin turning the dew into frost. It clung to them like a second skin and was quickly turning Cullen's face pink. As they continued onward, Cullen prayed that the Wardens had indeed come this way and he wasn't out here chasing an illusion. He sought out any signs of movement, human activity, campfires or torches, but he saw nothing. He knew it would be nearly impossible unless it was a light source, but he kept his eyes ripe. Especially if the so-called madmen were also out here. He didn't want to be caught off guard.

Pup stopped just ahead of him, sniffing the bitter air furiously. His ears were upright and his pose alert. He caught wind of something and suddenly let out a howl into the night.

"Hush! What are you doing?!" Cullen questioned with discouragement.

The mabari whined gently, tucking his ears back and bowing in submission. The heavy silence was broken only moments later. A mimicking howl responded to Pup's call. Cullen looked outward in the surrounding darkness, trying to determine where the howl was coming from. It wasn't close, but neither was it far. Pup gave him a "Boff" and plodded forward, leading him once more. Perhaps it was Kathryn's hound that responded - it surely didn't sound like a wolf. Several more minutes passed and nothing changed. The environment blended together in the dark night and the terrain was rugged enough to cause confusion. The thought of being lost did cross his mind, but he kept his faith. Pup stopped ahead of him once more, again nose to the air and ears upright. This time, though, he was searching all around him, circling, and then he growled. Cullen cautiously lifted the torch higher in the air, attempting to strengthen the light reach. He suddenly felt exposed and placed his other hand on the hilt of his sword.

A hiss was the only warning the General received as he closed the distance, his attention instantly turning to the side as two red, beady eyes above dripping fangs and flanked by clawed hands came right at him. He managed to lift his arm in defense, but the dark creature knocked him right off his horse, additionally sending his torch flying. The beast of burden nickered and neighed in sudden fright, bolting forward. Cullen landed hard on his back, his attacker's fangs clamped around his bracer, and he fought to keep it from shredding his face or tearing his arm off, gaining some cuts across his nose and cheek. He punched the cursed thing in the face, hearing a nice crunch under his fist, and it loosened its grip enough that his second hit staggered it off of him. Cullen's attention was stolen away from it briefly as he had to suddenly roll out of the way of his panicking horse. The beast stomped and kicked at the other monsters that came out of the shadows, nearly stepping on her owner's head in the process.

Cullen rolled to his feet and swiftly unsheathed his sword, hearing the sheen of the weapon. The hungry monster growled as it too returned to its feet, its body creaking and popping ever so lightly. He tried to get a better look at the thing, but now it was too dark to make out any details. It was humanoid, standing upright on two legs, it had two lanky arms tipped with claws, and it looked like it was wearing armor. When it lunged at him, uncanny and full of fury, he easily sidestepped and sliced his blade across its face, splitting open its skin and bone. When it stumbled forward and hit the ground, it confirmed Cullen's suspicion when he heard the clank of chainmail. His attention quickly turned to the fight between Pup and a group of them, the large mabari tearing through them with superior strength and speed, but they matched him with ferocity. They clawed and bit at him, attempting to swarm and bury him in a hungry feasting. Cullen rushed to his aid, cutting down the spine of one of the creatures before bringing his shield forward and bashing aside another, snapping its neck. In almost an instant he caught nearly all of their attentions.

They turned on him in a blink of an eye and he was forced to jump back and go on the defensive. He moved with swiftness and dexterity, keeping his footing and not letting them surround him. He severed outstretched limbs and knocked aside any that lunged at him. He cut many down in fast motion as they came at him, shifting positions as necessary. Now no longer encircled, Pup tackled and tore apart those who stood between him and Cullen, his toothy maw shredding flesh and breaking bones. He jumped back and forth between enemies, weakening those he did not outright kill before coming back to finish the job.

Pup let out an aggressive bark and growl, spitting remnants of his last victim, before lunging at the next foe. Cullen heard him yelp in pain, the cry bearing deep into him like a sword wound, and he turned immediately in his direction, blocking an overzealous attack in the process. His eyes widened in fear as he saw the shadowy demon looming over his hound, its wicked claws deep in Pup's side and pinning him to the ground. Body warped with tattered cloth and gnarled skin, cloaked in a supernatural smoke, the Shade drained the life energy from the hound with its touch. And though it found enjoyment in hearing the creature whimper, it found more in making Cullen watch. The demon eyed the General as it lifted its other talons.

"NO!"

Cullen moved in a rush, knocking aside the monster directly ahead of him, and cut open the second. He glared at the demon, a burning hatred kindled within. Two more creatures stood between him and the twisted abomination, and even as he refused to accept it, he knew he wasn't going to make it in time.

A vicious snarl and blur of movement suddenly hit the demon from behind. The large mabari latched onto its one glowing eye, tackling it with enough force it launched it away from Pup and onto the ground, and then proceeded to shake the damnation vigorous like a rag doll. The demon shrilled and cried, its twisted form beginning to shred and failing to stop the overpowering hound with its wildly swinging arms. There came a loud pop! when the mabari's jaws snapped shut and then he tossed the monstrosity aside, the limp body slamming into three of its armored allies.

Cullen beheaded another foe and raced to Pup's side. The mabari whimpered and struggled to get back on his feet, not wanting to disappoint even as blood seeped from his rib-cage and nose. Cullen was abhorred, hands beginning to tremble as he held him down gently, paling as he felt the blood leave his face. The older hound stood defensively at his back, growling at the dark forms crawling out of the forest. Gripping his sword with heated might, Cullen turned to face down the seemingly endless line of enemies. He knew these were no madmen. They were possessed corpses, hungry for a taste of the living. He glared at each of them with bitterness and readied himself for the onslaught. With hisses and bone clatters, of what best could be described as excitement, the corpses sprung forward. They ran and crawled across the ground in a frenzy, their hungry eyes the only true depictions of their locations. Cullen let out a roar of his own, challenging the undead horde to do their best, alongside the equally angry barks of the large mabari. As they drew closer, he could see the rot on their faces and the tatters of their rusty armor, he could make out their grey discoloration and startle in their blank eyes as they looked up to the light source.

A loud clap of thunder hit the front center of the horde, an invisible force rippling across the ground and sending the skeletal forms flying in a wave of shattered pieces. Cullen had to shield himself from the projectiles, ignoring the ringing in his ears. The attack disrupted the charge and shattered their ranks. The Warden-Commander leap from the bluff without hesitated to join the fray, the spear point of her dark staff finding its mark in one of their skulls. She hit and rolled to her feet, sweeping the blade from the skull to sever another. She moved with uncanny swiftness, using her weapon to deflect, trip, and bash aside the many undead now turning against her - keeping just out of reach. Her hound bowled over a line of them, springing forward in a powerful charge to protect his mistress. The canine was just as swift and cunning as she, bounding back when it was beginning to be swarmed and leaving them open to her magical attacks.

Cullen did not let them fight alone, charging forward to slay the unnatural creations. With a bright light now on his side, his attacks were far more precise and deadly, whether with sword or shield. His blade severed their heads effortlessly, his shield shattered necks and broke spines, and no undead could penetrate his defense. Lightning surged from the unseen sky above, exploding the skeletal bodies, and waves of ice crystals crippled and entrapped the monsters, allowing the General to bash them to pieces. It created a brief fog of frosty air particles, but it was a satisfying sensation.

A group managed to break away and rushed to engage the Warden-Commander, and another large shadowy figure closed quickly behind her. Fearing another demon, Cullen called out to her and the woman ducked. The whoosh! of the blade could be heard over the hisses and crushing bone, the heavy blade swinging right over the mage's head and severing through the undead creatures. Kathryn twirled behind the warrior Warden, his silver-blue armor now visible, her movement and direction of attention suggesting she knew he was there long before Cullen did. She sent forth another wave of magic which shattered an approaching number of undead looking to take advantage of the warrior's backside. Two more Wardens also joined the fight. Powerful arrows launched corpses off their feet and a horseman plowing right through, trampling more to dust.

It was a mess of chaos trapped in the small opening, enemies thrashing all around them, and yet the Wardens fought with timed accuracy and easily integrated the General in their tactics. In a matter of seconds, they were all fighting as a coherent unit, shouting warnings and directions, setting each other up for killing blows, and protecting one another as they equally tore through their enemies. The undead continued to came at them in fluttering waves, until finally their numbers dwindled to nothing. The last of them found the sharp end of the General's shield, the man slamming its head into the ground, splitting it apart at the jaw. The red glow in its eyes died and its skeletal body began to crumble, leaving behind a pile of dust only to be swept away by the passing wind.

Cullen panted, breathing in the cold night air. He could feel it drying his throat, but didn't care. He picked himself back up and rushed over to Pup's side, dropped his weapons and fell to his knees. The hound let out a weak whimper in response to his touch. He stared down at the mabari, his fear returning to him as now Pup could barely lift his head. Only the motion of something close tore him away, his hand reflexively going for his blade again. Kathryn hastily knelt and placed a hand above the puncture wound, a blue glow emanating from her palm. Cullen noticed she was missing her fourth digit, cut off just above the knuckle, but his main attention remained on the magical mist as it drifted into his treasured companion. He watched as the three holes in Pup's side slowly healed, the skin sealing and fur re-growing, leaving behind only old blood to indicate anything was ever wrong.

Joy and overwhelming relief grew in the man, the wear on his face washing away. Energy returned to the hound as Pup lifted his head, mouth open wide in a smile, and he rolled over into Cullen's arms, tail and body wagging. Cullen laughed and sighed at the same time, he began vigorously petting and rubbing him, whispering prayers of thanks. Pup bound up and nearly knocked him over, licking his face in excitement. Cullen held him back tentatively and for a time forgot where he was and whom he was with. His honey-coated eyes soon lifted to Kathryn, only briefly losing his pleased smile due to fluster. She was smiling back, gentle as always, and it was then that he felt warmth in his cheeks. He hoped the cold disguised his flush. The woman was only an arm's reach away, he could make out a pair of tiny old scars across her cheekbone, her skin also hinted with pink thanks to the chill, and the magic illuminating her body gave her an almost heavenly glow.

"Hey." she said, her voice just as sweet and mystical as ever.

He pushed down the lump growing in his throat. ".. Hey."

Pup bounced over to Kathryn then, surprising the woman as he kissed her in gratitude. She laughed and easily accepted his thanks, "You're welcome." She rubbed on his ears, which he appeared to enjoy.

"Kat." The warrior Warden approached, his informal call contrasting with his rigid form. He was a tall, strong fellow with sharp Nevarran features and black hair pulled back in a short tail. He had his greatsword strapped to his back and a woven cloak latched with a pendant displaying the Blade of Mercy - the insignia of the Templars. "The maleficar no doubt heard the commotion, we need to move before he vanishes again."

Kathryn nodded in agreement, rising to her feet with staff in hand. Cullen stood as well, a far more serious expression upon his face now. She was hunting a blood mage, why? He parted his lips to ask, but she rose a hand to silence him. "It's complicated." Was all she explained, as if able to read his mind. "We can discuss it when we return. Will you be okay heading back on your own?"

Cullen was a bit taken back, uncertain on how to respond. She was being distant and it sounded like she wanted him gone. It hurt, but he was able to accept the theories behind it. "Perhaps. It depends on how many more corpses I find." There was bitterness in his tone as he mentioned the creatures. It faded, but not his seriousness. "I came out here looking for you and your men, however, and it appears I was correct in suspecting you were involved with these madmen... What's going on exactly?"

Kathryn parted her lips to answer, but was cut off. "Sorry to interrupt," The tall Warden replied with a level of urgency and sarcasm, "but we need to get going. Your questions can wait."

"Can they?" Cullen glared with dislike and crossed his arms in stubbornness. "A blood mage is haunting the woods outside my families homes!"

"They will have to." Kathryn piped in, her attempt to calm the situation helping but keeping the edge, "I'm sorry, but in truth we don't have the time to explain. We'll talk later."

Cullen's eyes shifted to the sight of movement. He watched as the three Wardens that accompanied her began to head off, one of which being a qunari, leaving them behind as they moved with a level of haste. He even dared to glare at her discontentedly as she stepped away from him and made her leave. Was she giving him the cold shoulder? Abandoning him in the dark for no apparent reason? Why not invite him on the hunt? Allow him to join in the fight? The light she had created was quickly fading, the floating orb dissolving above the skirmish sight. Cullen quickly turned to see if he could find his torch again, before darkness consumed him once more, and was thankful when he did. He moved to relight it, but under quick evaluation found it had snapped and, though he could reignite it, the flame would not last long.

He turned back around in Kathryn's direction. She was gone. All of them had disappeared into the vast shadows. It made him wonder, how were they moving around so effortlessly without any light sources? Would they not be bumbling in the undergrowth? Magic. It had to be. It was too subtle to detect, not that he could (anymore) to begin with. Instead he looked to Pup, the dog sitting happily at his side even as darkness once more fell upon them.

---

The trek home was troublesome and exhausting - in more ways than one. Cullen returned to town, as requested, and headed back to the tavern. It was nearly empty now, aside from the two stationed guards continuing to look after the "entrapped" dwarf, and it was quiet. He had been gone for a handful of hours, the return trip taking much longer thanks to his fled horse, and early morning had set in. It would still be a few more until the light of the sun kissed Ferelden soil, but he already knew he wasn't going to sleep well. The people would be getting up soon to greet those warm rays, to gather in prayer, and eagerly get breakfast. Cullen had hoped his fatigue would help put him down, to grant him those few hours of deep sleep, but to his luck it was not so. He laid on the stiff, wood framed bed unable to rest - his mind too busy with thoughts. He stared up at the bare ceiling, digging holes into the beams with his heavy eyes. Pup had fallen asleep almost immediately, curled up on the small round rug next to the bed. He was exhausted too - the drain he suffered playing a major part in it. The young mabari was a good fighter and tracker, but he had never dealt with demons before. It was a deadly experience and he now knew to use better caution around such horrid monstrosities.

Time passed slowly and quickly as Cullen drifted in and out of restless sleep. And when at last he found some measure of deep slumber did loud urgent knocking wake him. He shot up in the bed, his back popping in reaction to the sudden motion. Pup had jumped up in startle as well, practically stumbling to his feet instead of rolling, and let out a hasty bark. Cullen groaned and grumbled, rubbing on his back while he walked over to the door. Whomever was on the other side was still banging on it - though he could hear them calling out his name as well.

"What?!" He snipped as he opened the door, obviously tired and grumpy.

"S-Ser.. Cullen?" She shrank back from minor startle, before tears began to swell in her aqua eyes. "Thank the Maker you're okay!" Fawn nearly cried and burst in and grabbed hold of his shirt in a frontal hug, surprising the sluggish General. She buried her face into his chest, "I thought you dead!"

In some confusion Cullen awkwardly, though gently, held her by the shoulder in a weak attempt to calm her. "Dead? What do you-"

"Someone found your horse!" She failed to contain her tears as she looked up at him, "It was hurt! And you were nowhere to be found! .. I-I heard the guards saying you went into the forest, and I feared the worst. I thought... you..."

"Cullen!" Mia shot around the corner, her expression serious and upset. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He stared at his older sister, uncertain on whether she was talking about his current situation, which made him suddenly uncomfortable, or what progressed last night. She strode right up to him, her face red with anger and ignored the woman whimpering in his arm. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?! Leave these madmen to the guards! That's not your job anymore!" She pointed at him accusingly as she spoke.

"They weren't madmen! They were demons, Mia!" He quickly retorted in defense, a fury coming upon him and unintentionally grabbing Fawn's shirt tighter. He barely heard the youth echo the word in a measure of fear. "It doesn't matter if it's my job or not! They needed to be dealt with!"

"And you didn't think about getting help?! "Oh dear Guardsmen, could you help me deal with some demons? I'd really appreciate it." How hard can that be?!" She threw out her arms in dismay, "You got everyone worried sick!"

Cullen sighed heavily with a groan, "Look, I'm sorry! I wasn't expecting to find any in the forest!"

"Then what were you expecting?! Hm?!" Mia crossed her arms defiantly, staring her brother down.

It was like she just slapped him in the face. It might have been preferable. What was he expecting? He darted off into those accursed woods with little forethought or plan, let alone expectations. He went in chasing his past - chasing a woman he only dreamed of meeting again. He told himself he went searching for the Wardens, searching for answers, to offer assistance if need be, but instead… he was left in the dark.

"I don't know." Cullen finally answered, his voice losing its bite. There was pain to his words and expression, his shoulders losing their stiffness. Fawn even moaned in concern and bowed her head down in thought, perhaps to think of something to do or say.

Mia gave him a worried look, losing her bite as well. With a heavy sigh, "What am I saying? I should have known you'd do something foolish at the first sign of trouble… What's important is that you're safe."

"I'm fine, Mia, you can stop worrying about me."

With a scoff, "Your right, I can, but I'm not going to."

Cullen sighed once more, though a bit more relieved. He then looked down to Fawn who was still huddled close to him. He gently pushed her off and held her at arms length, his hands upon her small shoulders, "Where is my horse now?"

"It's... at the Arl's keep." the waitress answered with minor startle, perhaps at his question and the thought of him going out again. He nodded his thanks and turned to head back inside his room. "Um..." Fawn moved to follow, but stopped at his door. She still looked worried. "Do you want me to bring up some breakfast?"

"No." Cullen answered solidly. When she shuddered, he realized he sounded harsher than meant. So he glanced back to her and spoke with a gentler tone, "Thank you." He then shut the door.

He sat down on the bed, the wood moaning quietly under his weight, and rubbed the temples of his forehead. As much as he wanted to go back to sleep, he knew it would be impossible. The sounds of the waking city would keep him from dozing off and the sunlight peeked through the shutters right on the pillow, right were his eyes would be. So he took a moment to think things through. To recall and diagnose everything that has occurred last night. What he needed was more information. Cullen donned his armor and got ready to head out, but didn't leave the tavern immediately, instead crossing the hall and stopping in front of the closed door to the dwarf's room. He didn't hear anything beyond it, but judging by the guards still positioned around the building, the merchant hadn't left yet. He knocked, loudly. There came some shuffling on the other side, a rude startle, followed by a long pause.

"W-Who is it?" the distant dwarf asked, his gravelly voice muffled even more by the wooden structure between them.

"Cullen Rutherford, formerly of the Inquisition. I'm looking into your case, but I'm going to need answers."

"Answers? Th-This isn't a questionnaire shop! Bugger off!"

Cullen sneered at the door in front of him. "I'm looking into your case," He repeated between clinched teeth. "I'm also a friend of Kath-!" He paused to correct himself, "- of the Hero of Ferelden... She was hunting a blood mage. Is that who's after you?"

"I said go away!"

Irritation was growing in the already upset man, his hands tightening into fists at his side. "A blood mage is stalking the forest just outside the city, summoning demons and undead creatures, and you are their target. You are putting everyone here in danger, and I will not have it! Either you open this door and answer my questions, or I knock it down and force you to explain your situation to the entire town!"

There was a pause of silence before the merchant spoke again. He cursed quietly beforehand. "Wha- What do you want exactly?"

"For you to open this door, or do you expect to have a conversation through it?"

There was more cursing. Cullen heard footsteps approaching, slow and staggered. He then heard the scraping of heavy wood across the floor, furniture used to barricade the door, and then the iron clicks of the lock. The door cracked opened, a tired, somewhat panicked eye peering through the narrow opening to inspect the visitor. There were dark bags under that eye and Cullen knew the dwarf had yet to sleep.

After looking the stoic man up and down, perhaps satisfied in thinking him not an assassin or something, "I-I don't know what they want. I haven't done anything wrong. I'm just a merchant!"

"But they are after you? The maleficar?"

"Y-Yes." The dwarf glanced both ways down the hall, almost as if expecting something to jump out at the mere mention of the blood mage. "I was selling my wares when he approached, the blighter smelt of rotten eggs - I remember. He lit my caravan on fire and tried to do me in too! I barely escaped with my life!"

"Where did this happen?"

".. South of Denerim, on the road. I-I tried heading back to the capital, but the bastard cut me off!" Panic was beginning to return to the merchant, memories of the event scaring him. His weary eye was wide open for any signs of danger as he looked down the hall almost constantly at this point. He even ducked back in at the slightest sound. "E-Everywhere I went, he found me! There was nowhere to hide, I had to run!"

Cullen foiled his brow, "What about the Wardens? How did they get involved?"

"The- ... The Wardens, they saved my hide twice now. I thought they killed him the first time, but he… He got back up! He got back up." The dwarf began to mutter on the other side of the door, repeating "He got back up".

Fear was starting to overwhelm the poor dwarf, the door shaking from his trembling grip. Cullen decided he had asked enough, not wanting to push him too far, and walked way. He heard the door slam shut and the scrapping of wood return to block the door again. He made his way downstairs and outside. Fawn was there to greet him and had stepped up to him just before he exited, a weak smile on her still worried face and a tray in hand. Cullen glanced at the food presented and, with a sigh, accepted the offer - which brightened her smile. It would be unwise to continue forth without something in his stomach. Regardless, he did appreciate her act of kindness.

Cullen, along with Pup, made their climb towards the Arl's keep. It was located up a steep hill on the south side of the city, the path never a straight line and at times flanked by one or two cliff drops. He passed between two stone guard towers and connected bridge along the way, before eventually reaching the outer wall of the keep itself. It was a solid, fortified structure - parapets, battlements, and towers all around - with the main central keep and two other buildings inside. The gate was currently open and the patrolling guards did not halt his entry. He was a welcome guest here, if he recalled correctly, and if necessary he could request an audience with the Arl. Though he was curious as to why his horse was here and not down in the city stables or even in someone else's backyard. His horse was a fine breed, just as fast as she was hardy, and certainly worth quite a few sovereigns.

As he entered the open cobbled courtyard, the smell of dirt, stone, and lavender hit him. Framed pockets of grassy gardens and lavender bushes were kept in various locations - a show of elegance and class no doubt, providing little else aside from a more pleasant visit to the secluded keep. Cullen easily observed at least two dozen soldiers patrolling or standing guard, all of which in heavy plate armor of Veridium. He could hear a collection of large hounds, most likely mabari, over near the barracks and the stables flanked on the other side, the two long buildings leading the eye to the impressive keep. It was of smooth masonry, unlike the other two structures, with its pillars and archways decorative and its windows painted glass. It was a tall, square building with slender towers at its back and a steep curved roof. A double layered stairway led up to the entrance, with a statue of Andraste located on the middle break.

It was considered a remarkable and fashionable place to most Fereldens, but Cullen could see the flaws. There were noticeable gaps in the guard patrols, the height of the keep made it an easy target for siege weapons, there were areas of long shadows and narrow grooves to potentially hide it, there was a single well to combat any fires that may be started, and the courtyard could use a lot a work to make it more defensible. The General couldn't help but chuckle as he picked apart the Arl's fortification, his eyes naturally finding those details.

Pup let out a happy bark, before he sprinted forward in excitement. Cullen called after him, quickening his steps to chase down the dog. He grumbled under his breath, before slowing to a stop after turning the corner around one of the many gardens. He watched Pup bounce circles around the older mabari, playfully pawing and quietly boffing at him. The auburn dog was sitting calmly in the grass, panting lightly with a wide smile, not seeming to mind the more energetic dog. Kathryn was here too?! Cullen took in a deep breath, pushing back his hesitation and the twist in his gut. He came here for his horse, but perhaps he should seek her out as well? She could provide more solid answers to his questions, and she said she was willing to. Was she staying up here then? Taking advantage of the Arl's hospitality? She was an appointed noble, wasn't she? Cullen had nearly forgotten that part, actually only knowing so because of their mutual friend Leliana.

"Arlessa Kathryn Amell." Cullen said slowly under his breath. He chuckled at the sound of it, finding it strange to say. He preferred Warden or Hero - for that's what he saw her as. Though in truth, using her name was far more familiar and meaningful to him.

A curious whine brought his attention back to the present. He looked down to the graying mabari who was eyeing him. Perhaps saying her name turned its attention to him, the hound no doubt understood and recognized the words.

"May I… see her?" The question was more challenging to ask that he thought. He felt dryness in his throat and a flutter in his gut as he spoke. He nearly kicked himself, reminding himself he was here for a horse!

The mabari gave him a quiet response and began to lead him towards the keep. Pup bounced around the two of them, at least until the older dog gave him a stern huff, instantly settling the youth down. Cullen climbed the layered steps, pausing briefly to look on the statue of the Prophetess, and then pushed open the thick oak doors. The interior reflected the simple, but alluring decor outside. Colorful rugs ran along the stone floors, flowers and tapestries lined the walls, and decorative etchings were on pillars and archways. He could see servants and a handful of guards roaming about, the entry hall containing only two posted soldiers, and yet none of them bothered to greet or escort the General. His "guide" appeared to place him in its care and they all acknowledged it as so. The auburn hound huffed again, keeping his attention, and led him forward. They crossed to the north wing, passing a few closed doors and open studies, turning down the hall to end at an ajar door. Cullen could hear voices within, Kathryn's was one. There was another which sounded familiar and the third he did not know, though he had a heavy Orlesian accent.

He stood at the door for some time, not sure on how long, merely listening to the sounds of their voices. They were discussing tactics, risks and dangers, and how to handle the dwarven merchant and his chaser. At times one of their voices would rise, heat sparking with each word, as they argued about the situation. Kathryn and the Orlesian kept their cool. Cullen was able to recognize the subtle insults in the latter's words, thanks to his time in Orlais and having to endure the aristocracy, but he still doubted he caught them all.

"This is absurd! I've got men posted on every corner at every angle around the city! The culprit's not getting in! Period!"

"We are dealing with a blood mage, Capitaine, we must use every precaution at our disposal. He is dangerous, capable of summoning demons and perhaps even controlling one's mind. Is this something you truly believe your men can handle?"

The Guard Captain scoffed. "My men are the best damn trained soldiers you'll see in all of Ferelden! More than capable of handling any mage, even your Commander." The comment was meant to shake Kathryn, even though it was the Orlesian he was addressing.

"Oh? Hm! Your men are quite incredible indeed, good ser. No doubt thanks to your leadership." The Orlesian continued to painlessly insult the man, obviously not believing the Captain's statement. "Perhaps we should leave this to him then, my Lady?"

"No." Kathryn said sternly, her tone interrupting any growing hostilities. "We have given our word to Barsk, we will not abandon him. And the City Guard is important in keeping that promise… Captain, underestimating this mage will put more people in danger. You cannot tell a maleficar by sight, he could easily blend in with the crowd - if he hasn't already done so. We need to be careful."

"He is just one man, Warden-Commander. Blood mage or not, there's only so much he can do." the Captain retorted.

At this point Cullen has heard enough. It was obvious the Guard Captain wasn't taking this serious enough, allowing his arrogance and/or incompetence to hinder the plans to stop the blood mage. People were at risk; the entire city was at risk. Yes, he was just one man, but Cullen has suffered mercilessly thanks to the doings of one man. He has seen the horrors one maleficar can bestow on a community, all the fear and pain they cause, which in turn feed the demons and abominations conjured from the Fade.

The General pushed open the door and entered with purpose. "And how do you plan on finding the blood mage, Captain?" Cullen asked coldly. He glared at the helmed officer, who in return shared similar disdain. Approaching the trio standing around the war table, "Do you plan on letting him work his accursed magic, to sacrifice someone to lure him out?"

"What are you doing here?! You're not welcome!" the Captain glowered.

"How many people are going to die due to your incompetence?! To your inability to act?!" Cullen spat bitterness and growing hate, not necessarily for the man before him, but the blood magic threatening the city.

"Cut that tongue before I do it for you!" the Captain threatened, sliding his hand to the hilt of the sword on his hip. "You think yourself high and mighty... You are not the one in charge anymore! You think you know better than I on how to deal with this?!"

"Yes." His answer was solid and enough to teeter the Captain on the edge. "I have seen firsthand the devastation one mage can create, let alone a maleficar with a horde of demons and undead chained to them." Cullen stepped right up to him, challenging his command. "You are out of your league, Guard Captain."

"Out of my?- Blighter! I've enough of you! You have done nothing but overstep your bounds since you arrived!" The Captain pushed back in the challenge, stuffing a hard finger in the General's armored chest as he accused him. "A real pain in my neck! You're just an empty husk looking for purpose again, and you'll find none here! Now leave, before I make you leave."

"He stays." Kathryn said coolly.

The Captain spun and glared back at the woman, "He leaves! By my command-!"

"No one in this room is under your command, Captain." The intense glare she gave him pierced right through his armor, sending a visible shiver down his spine. The man even gulped. The hand on his weapon looked ready to draw it to defend himself from the Warden, not take on the challenging General. With finalization, "He stays."

There was a long pause of tense silence. The Guard Captain wanted to say something, to retort and use his authority, but instead he huffed and glared before leaving all together. He cursed and muttered angrily under his breath as he left, slamming the door behind him. There was another pause, though the intensity of the room quickly began to fade. One of the two hounds whined quietly - probably Pup. It was apparent that Kathryn had to choose between the city guards or the General. He was thankful and flattered she had chosen him. The Orlesian approached Cullen shortly after, his steel blue eyes observing the selected ally. He was an older gentleman, stark white hair slicked back and a well-trimmed beard on his broad jaw. He moved and stood with proud posture, just like those of Orlesian nobility, though not nearly as stuffy as some Cullen's encountered.

A smile moved the fluff of hair called a moustache. "Warden-Lieutenant Drake de' Leon." He introduced himself with a minor bow, one arm posed behind his lower back. "I have heard good things about you, General of the Inquisition, and it is a pleasure to have you on board - not many would volunteer for this type of work."

Cullen held back a scoff. "I am no longer a General, Lieutenant. Regardless, I'm not going to let a maleficar ruin anymore lives. It is something sadly too familiar."

"Sad indeed, but having another man of experience is invaluable. The Commander has also vouched for you."

Drake motioned towards Kathryn as he spoke of her, Cullen's eyes following the gesture. She had been eyeing him for a little while now he realized, her usual gentleness and warmth replaced with a far more serious and commanding feel. It was strange being under that authoritative gaze, but this was the Warden-Commander that was looking upon him, not the mage he used to know. Cullen dutifully gave her a respectful and appreciative salute and bow, acknowledging and accepting her position. The act seemed to surprise the woman, her stern expression disappearing when a chuckle and smile softened her to familiarity. Her eyes shyly drifted down to the maps and notes sprawled on the table before her.

"Shall I fill the General in on the details, my Lady?" Drake asked his commander.

Those emerald orbs lifted back up to the two, gently landing on him again. Cullen remained silent, in both respect and also response to her natural charm. Kathryn straightened from leaning over the table, "No. Leave that to me. I want you to wake the others and ready the horses."

"As you wish, my Lady." Drake bowed his head to her and then to Cullen. "General."

Drake made his exit, pausing only briefly to pat the two mabari sitting next to the door and closed it gently behind him. Cullen eventually stepped forward for the debriefing and to examine the papers laid on the table. As he assumed, they were maps of the city and neighboring lands, including the lumber yard, mine, and portions of the forest. There were markers and circles placed in strategic locations, the general layout indicating several ambush sites and choke points.

"Before I begin…" Kathryn started, waiting until he looked up at her, ensuring his attention before continuing, "I do appreciate your willingness to help, and I am sorry for turning you away earlier, but… just how far are you willing to go?"

Cullen stared at her for a few moments, trying to decipher the true meaning behind her question. He could tell there was something more to it. He decided to keep his answer simple, hoping perhaps she'd elaborate more later. "As far as I need to. You are chasing a dangerous adversary, and from what I overheard you are in need of more support. I can only offer my services, but you are familiar with what I can do. I will leave it up to you on how far you need me to go."

A quiet sigh was released under her breath, he couldn't tell if it was one of relief or regret, but she gave him an agreeing nod. "Very well. I will be straight with you then. This maleficar has slipped through our fingers three times now and, in comparison, is perhaps just as powerful as Uldred." The name made one of Cullen's eyes twitch and his hands to close into fists. Painful and heated memories stirred in his mind, of the Enchanter that turned against the Circle and bathed it in blood and corruption. It also sparked a level of dread in him. He buried his contempt as Kathryn continued speaking, "He is obsessed with catching Barsk, the dwarven merchant, and the only thing appearing to slow him down is his subtlety."

"I've spoken with the dwarf, he said the mage was trying to kill him, not capture him."

"If that were true, then he would already be dead. Barsk has something that the mage wants, but we don't know what yet. He doesn't even know. He lost all his possessions and merchandise to the mage already, all he has is the clothing on his back."

Cullen mused over the information, suspicious on what a blood mage would want from a merchant. Information perhaps? Doubtful a sacrifice, he was going through too much trouble where there were easier targets - sadly. "Maybe he had something. A magical artifact or important documents, perhaps?"

"We had speculated the same. He may have had a book, but Barsk insists he's never dealt in arcane items… Though just in case, I do have someone keeping an eye on him to see if he's hiding anything. In addition to keeping him safe of course." Kathryn stated, which surprised him somewhat.

For a moment she reminded him of Leliana - the thought of working in the shadows, never revealing her true purpose, being suspicious of everyone and everything. He had known Kathryn as a compassionate and, in truth, naive young woman. She always saw the brighter sides of people and would take great risks to "save" even the unsavory ones. There were a few times, he remembered back in the Circle, when she would get into trouble because she believed she was helping others. Where in truth they used her kind heart to their advantage. He wondered if she was ever aware of that fact, if her innocence played against her, because she was always willing to offer a helping hand. Now it appeared she'd learned that lesson, or at least enough to not go in defenseless. He could see it in her eyes, that guarded and quizzical look. He could sense that protective suit of armor around her heart, showing wear and tear from past experiences. She has seen the darker side of things, of people... Including himself. And yet…

"Why are you doing this?" he asked in relation to his thoughts, rather than the topic on hand.

"Why?" Kathryn was a bit puzzled by the question, arching a thin brow in response. "Because he needs our help. Someone is trying to do him harm and-"

"No. I mean…" Cullen sighed regretfully. He averted his eyes back to the papers, picking one up in pretend to read it. "Why are you letting me in? I haven't forgotten how we… parted. And I know I, hurt you."

There was a moment of silence and Cullen was afraid to look at her. He could imagine the look on her face, the buried pain, the sorrow, or even ignited anger. Thinking back to her question, 'how far he was willing to go', it made him wonder if she was questioning his trust. Or her trust in him. The way they parted, he didn't doubt either one of those.

"That was years ago, Cullen." She finally responded. There was no malice, no sorrow. It sounded… plain. "You came to me offering help and I accepted it. There is a blood mage that needs to be dealt with, and your training and experience will greatly increase our chances of removing him. Does it need to be more complicated than that?"

So business it was. Cullen felt both relieved and yet also disappointed by her response, knowing she has moved past it and sees this temporary partnership as little more than a solution to a problem. "No, it does not. My apologizes."

"Good. Let's focus on the situation at hand, shall we?" Kathryn inhaled gently, crossing her arms afterwards. "We have the maleficar's target secured, but not necessarily for the betterment of everyone else. At this current moment, we have two options available to us. We either keep him safe and secure in town, put the civilians at risk and use the city's defenses against the mage and reduce the damage he can do. It will be harder now if the Guard-Captain has his way. Or we leave and take Barsk with us, securing the safety of the people, while risking the lives of me and my men out in the environment where the mage has the greater advantage."

"Leaving a fortified location is rarely a good idea, and I have a few friends in the guard. But I understand your concerns in allowing a maleficar inside the walls... How many men do you have with you?"

"There are ten of us all together. Most are warriors, one of which a former Templar. There is one other mage aside from myself and a pair of scouts. Ignoring the incidents with this particular foe, roughly half of them have had encounters with demons or blood mages in the past."

Cullen tapped gently on the table as he thought it through, his eyes studying the markings on the maps. There were solid defensive positions marked, potentially luring in and trapping the mage with minimum risk to the people, but the risk was still there. In a blink of an eye the maleficar could unleash untold horror upon the city, desperation and fear pushing him over the edge. The chances of success were greater inside the city, but so were the chances of greater destruction. While luring the maleficar away greatly decreased the chances of success, but limited the damage to a very small number.

Ultimately, he had to ask: Who was more valuable? The people or the Wardens?

The decision wasn't an easy one, but it was quickly made. Cullen followed Kathryn back outside, their two hounds at their respectable sides. Upon opening the doors, the light of the late morning stung his eyes, his arm moving to block out the sun, and after the glare faded from his vision he saw only three other Wardens waiting in the courtyard below with lightly armored horses at the ready, packed for a long trip.

"Where are the rest of your men?" he asked as they climbed down the steps.

"Out in the forest. We've split our numbers to work two shifts throughout the day, attempting to exhaust the mage and weaken his position."

"Is that wise? Given your limited number as is?"

"Perhaps not, but before now we weren't trying to fully engage him."

The two moved over to the stables, the other Wardens standing near their mounts, and Cullen could see his horse there as well, packed and ready to go. He did take a moment to observe the other Wardens, recognizing them as those he fought beside the night before. The tall ex-Templar was staring him down, arms crossed and a sneer curling his pointed nose. The silent qunari stood like a statue, the large ox-man's skin stone grey and painted with red tattoos, his horns had been sawed off by the looks of it, and his long hair drifted below his shoulders. He wore no armor besides the blue and silver tabard down his torso and thick leather leggings, but he did have an impressive, colorful bow stringed on his back.

"Your horse, good ser. I've taken liberty of restoring her back to health." Drake presented as he approached.

An appreciable smile crossed his lips, "Thank you." Cullen took a moment to examine the condition of his horse, finding all her injuries missing, in addition to a few other things that made his smile gradually fade. There were tiny bows in her elegantly twisted mane and it looked like… sparkles in her fur? He had to avoid gawking in distaste. "Did you... braid her hair? And what is that smell?!"

"Ah, that would be the rosemary ser. She was in much need of a bath after her ordeal, and she is the steed of someone important, no? She's got to look the part." The older man sounded very proud of his work.

Cullen groaned quietly under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was going to get a headache, for sure, due to the smell. It was strong enough he wondered if Drake used enough it could drown a small child in it. Regardless, he stepped up and mounted his steed, happy to have her back. Pup boffed with equal feelings down below.

"So what's the plan? Why we bringing Mr. Fluffy?" the Templar asked as he slowly rode up beside Kathryn, pointing a thumb back to the General as he spoke.

Cullen glared mildly at his back with a quiet huff of displeasure. He supposed the nickname was from the fur lining of his red surcoat, as he could not think of anything else that would make sense. His hair wasn't ruffled, was it? He fought the urge to comb a hand through it.

"Mr. Fluffy is an old acquaintance and has agreed to lend his assistance. He was a Templar, much like you Hordin, and we could use his help." Kathryn answered nonchalantly in regards to Cullen's new nickname. "We are going to collect the merchant and regroup outside the city. Too many lives are at risk if he stays here."

"Sounds fun." Hordin snorted lightly and then turned back to Cullen. There was a more respectable look in his eyes now, perhaps due to their professional backgrounds. "You got a name brother?"

The term rubbed wrong on him, but he knew it was meant to bring fellowship. "It's Cullen."

"Cullen?!" Hordin gave him a wide eyed look and then instantly twisted his head back to Kathryn. "You mean-"

"Yes!" she interrupted with a snap, "And that's all we're going to hear about it."

There was warning in her tone, which Cullen did not understand, but it got Hordin laughing and snickering as the party began their descent back to town.