This is so AU its like watching a Conan movie after reading Howard. Okay, maybe not quite that AU but close. Any lore violations are deliberate (mostly). It came into my head and just wouldn't go away until I wrote it down. I've very much messed with the Origins/Awakening story but tried to stay true to the characters.
Any characters and places they recognise belong to Bioware, any they don't I made up and they belong to me.
Oh, about the fletching, no idea if its true, so just humour me ;-) (I'm sure I've seen it somewhere though, so if I appear to have stolen the idea its very unintentional).
The Arl of Denerim's estate wasn't a place you'd usually find a mob of angry commoners, but this Arl hadn't paid his bills. Unlike previous Arls who, whatever else their crimes, made sure to keep the local merchants happy, this new one didn't seem as prudent. The guards were very preoccupied with the crowd of merchants, and so they didn't notice the four strangers coming in the gate.
The guards didn't see the four strangers but someone did.
That someone crouched, carefully hidden in the dense foliage of a large tree, and watched the group intently. He'd not seen any of them before, but the human male with them looked familiar enough that the knew who they were. The Grey Wardens and two others, an male elf and a older human woman.
Curious that they'd come to the Arl's estate so openly. Curious but perhaps useful for his needs. He'd come here over three days to watch and plan his best way into the estate. He had thought it would be easy but the angry merchants, while distracting the guards, also meant more guards. More guards than were needed for controlling a mob of unarmed commoners?
Perhaps he'd discovered what the guards were actually guarding against. Not the merchants after all, but these intruders. Were they here for the Arl? To kill him or for some other purpose?
As he watched the four approached an elf woman who, after a short conversation, led them to the the side of the estate building. It seemed his way in had fortuitously presented itself. Slipping silently down the side of the tree he followed unnoticed in the party's wake.
"Are you sure we can trust her?"
Caeren glanced up in amusement at Alistair's rather loud whisper. "I'm sure we have no choice but to trust her." Privately she shared his distrust but what could they do? Arl Eamon had insisted they 'rescue' Anora from Howe's clutches. If indeed she really did need rescuing, which Caeren rather doubted. The slim chance she was wrong however, was enough that she'd not leave the woman in danger.
Eamon's reasoning may be that they'd need Anora's support to put Alistair on the throne, her's was not. Slipping her hand into Alistair's, Caeren rather looked forward to his reaction when he found out she'd decided Anora would make a better ruler for Ferelden.
"Something amusing my dear?" He couldn't see anything even vaguely funny about sneaking into the Arl of Denerim's house. Particularly not if he really did have Anora locked up for some nefarious purpose.
"Aren't you amused? We're going to rescue the Queen of Ferelden from the Arl of Denerim. Too funny." Caeren chuckled when he glared at her. "Lost our sense of humour have we my dear?"
"Apparently, yes, I have, because this isn't in the least funny." Alistair made sure to squeeze her hand so she didn't think he was angry with her.
The Maker must love them or else the guards were asleep today. Not one had come to challenge them and they were making enough noise to raise the dead. Even as he thought it, he heard the soft clinking of armoured feet approach. Moving quickly he slid behind a bush to await the outcome of the coming fight.
"Quick, someone's coming!" Erlina ran ahead until she was out of the way of the guards rounding the corner of the building.
They may be noisy but they were impressive enough in battle to compensate. The wardens made very short work of the unfortunate guards and were on their way quickly. Once again he followed. At some point he'd have to get past them, particularly if their goal was Rendon Howe. For now, he was content to let them smooth his path into the Estate building.
The remainder of the walk around to the rear of the building proved uneventful. When the group paused, he kept carefully away and hidden, curious to see how they intended to get inside.
"Put on the disguises while I distract the guards, hurry!"
After donning the oversized armour, Caeren quickly checked her companions. "I'm not sure this will work."
"No? Do you think two elves and two humans wearing badly fitting armour will stand out?" Alistair grinned when Zevran chuckled. "I'm sure Howe keeps lots of elves as guards. He's such a warm caring person."
They could not seriously think that armour made them look anything but suspicious? Even if you overlooked the fact that they had two elves in their group, one of them was a mage and carrying a staff. Maker they weren't very bright were they? He only hoped the guards weren't very bright either or failing that, they just survived long enough to get him inside.
The two guards at the gate walked away, following the elf woman and the badly armoured group trotted into the now unguarded gate.
Rendon Howe's guards were obviously either very poorly trained or extremely stupid. Possibly both. Shaking his head, he eased past the gate and after waiting a moment followed the group into the Estate.
He'd lost sight of them but had no trouble determining their path. Again, he shook his head. Straight into the dining hall where the bulk of the off duty guards would be resting. Sighing, he quickly checked his bearings and moved off along the hallway that ran along the side of the large room. He didn't have luxury of a disguise, no matter now flimsy, so would have to rely on stealth to see him further inside.
It took him a few minutes of eavesdropping before he realised he was on the wrong side of the Estate. Apparently the good Arl had moved himself so he could sleep beside the dungeons. Repulsive man. Another reason to kill him. Unfortunately he'd die quickly, which is more than his victims could say.
Some might think it better if Rendon Howe suffered as he'd caused others to suffer. He wouldn't allow that thought sit in his mind for any longer than a brief second. To consider giving into that temptation would make him no better than the man he was sworn to kill. A murderer he may be, but never a monster. He'd promised himself that long ago.
Picking his way carefully through the Estate he soon realised the guards weren't quite as stupid as he'd assumed. They were certainly undisciplined and lazy but in letting the warden group sneak in they were acting under orders. It seemed Rendon Howe was holding the Queen hostage and this group of wardens had to come rescue her. The Arl expected that it seemed, and he'd told his guards to let them in. Interesting. Either he was exceedingly well guarded or exceedingly arrogant. The latter was most likely.
The good news in that for him was he could pick the warden group up on their to the dungeon and follow them once more. Unless the Arl was delusional he should have stationed extra men there. Better to let the wardens clear them for him than try to sneak past and endanger his chances of reaching the Arl.
"Of course. Why did we think we could just come in and fetch Anora. Of course we'll have to hunt down Howe and steal the key from his person. Of course we will."
"Stop muttering Alistair." Caeren wanted to laugh but managed not to. "Here's the Arl's bedroom." Leading the small group through to the stairs down, she paused. "What are you doing Zev?"
"A chest, with a lock! I cannot simply walk past, this is a crime against the Maker." While he answered he quickly picked the lock. "Hmm documents." Seeing Caeren's hand held out he handed the documents to her. "No gold, no jewels, what sort of evil is this?"
"Arl Howe is a foul person Zev, he's doing this on purpose to annoy you." A quick look at the documents left Caeren stunned. "Grey Warden documents. Where did Howe find these?" She let Alistair take them. "Do you know?"
"I don't like this. It smells wrong." Why would Howe have Warden documents? With what looked like the Joining ritual and the names of his fellow Wardens written on them.
"Well, we won't know anything until we find Howe. Perhaps he'll be kind enough to explain the documents to us."
This seemed his best time to pass them. They were distracted by whatever they'd found in the chest and shouldn't notice him at all.
The stairs down led to what appeared to be a small group of cells. Only one guard that he easily bypassed. The next area was more difficult. Guarded by a group of men obviously expecting trouble. It was trapped and the men had their weapons trained on the door.
They were Howe's men however and as badly trained as the rest. One coin tossed over their heads distracted them long enough for him to move into the hallway. Unsure of his direction, he decided to follow the main hall to the end. If his guess was correct, the Arl would station himself somewhere reasonably fortified with at least a handful of guards.
That may mean he'd have to kill those guards as well as the Arl. If so, he'd face that possibility when he found Rendon Howe.
There were remarkably few guards in the halls, possibly there were more in the rooms he carefully avoided. It didn't matter he supposed, a problem for the warden group to deal with. It should serve to slow them down a little and give him time to complete his task.
As he'd thought he knew when he'd found the right room. The door was open and he could see guards and what looked like mages moving around. He walked back carefully along the hallway until he could still see half of the doorway. From where he stood he could see quite clearly into the room. The Arl was standing a few paces back from the open doorway, to greet the Wardens, possibly with the intention of unsettling them. It didn't matter why, what did matter was he'd put himself in line of sight.
Easing sideways as far he was able, he slowly drew an arrow from the quiver on his back. As the bow in his left hand lifted he brought the fletching to his lips and bit down on one side of the feather to bend it slightly. It would need to move to the right in flight or he might miss his target. Notching the arrow he sighted down the shaft and let a picture of the arrow head embedding itself in the Arl's eye socket fix his aim.
Just as he loosed the string the Arl saw him. Too late to move out of the way and too late to speak. Rendon Howe died surprised and he also died knowing who killed him. The satisfaction that gave him was almost frightening.
The sounds of the wardens' battling brought him back to the moment. They were just beyond the corner and approaching quickly. They'd soon be on him if he didn't hide. Moving silently he shifted back into a dark shadow as they ran past him and into the Arl's room. Their entry was followed by sounds of a fight. Those of the Arl's men who'd been set to guard him no doubt blamed the wardens for his death. That wasn't his concern. His concern was escaping the Estate without being caught.
Caeren nudged the limp body with her foot. "He's dead." Looking up she saw Alistair was also frowning down at Howe's corpse. "Who killed him?"
"Are you asking me my dear? I certainly didn't." This was odd. Even odder than the things they usually faced. "He should be alive, shouldn't he? All those guards we had to fight past, how could anyone get in here without them seeing?"
"An assassin could." Zev moved back into the hallway. "A skilled assassin could easily bypass those cretins."
Crouching Caeren touched the shaft of the arrow stuck fast into Howe's eye socket. "Nice shot." Frowning she peered at the arrow's shaft. "Look at this."
"Very nice." It looked like one arrow had killed Howe. "Whoever it was has saved us some time at least."
"No Alistair, look. The feathers are damaged, its odd."
About to enter the room again, Zev caught movement out of the corner of his eye and hesitated. At the far end of the hallway, at the foot the stairs, a man paused to look back at him. Then seemed to disappear. "Ah huh! An assassin. Marvellous!" Shaking his head in amusement, he went to see what the Wardens were up to.
"Zev. Come and look at this." Perhaps a trained assassin would be more help than Alistair. "The feathers are damaged."
"Ah." Crouching beside Caeren, Zev touched the fletching lightly. "Yes. Control the direction of the arrow. Perhaps he makes this himself." Noticing their puzzled expressions he chuckled. "Apologies, you are not archers, I forget. Our assassin bends and perhaps wets the fletching to make the arrow follow the path he desires. It is more usual for targets that are far away. This one wishes to ensure he doesn't miss his mark."
"A Crow?"
"Oh, no, I think not, but possibly a professional, yes. If not he should be."
"I've never seen an archer do that." Wynne came closer for a clearer view. "Is it a common practice?"
"If you see an archer 'bite his fletching', as the saying goes, and his eye is on you, take my advice and hide dear Wynne. Its an old practice, usually only one who makes his own arrows will do it. One must know precisely how it will affect the flight you see. It is commonly understood by those who know such things to be the mark of a master."
"That's all very interesting but will it help us find the man who did this?" Caeren sighed and stood. "Not that it matters I suppose, another death we will take the blame for."
"This is not something that is done in Ferelden. Only in more, shall we say, exotic places. If you see another archer who does this in this country, it will be safe to assume he is your assassin."
A slight wind kicked up the edges of his cape as he walked slowly along the high wall but Nate didn't notice. His attention was elsewhere, thinking about home, his family, the wardens. Halting at a parapet he stared down at the city. Amaranthine. How many years had it been since he'd seen his home? Nine, ten? Too many. Now to come only to hear news of the disgrace of his family. The innkeeper who'd happily shared the gossip had also told him the Wardens had been given Vigil's Keep and the Arling.
The Vigil. Remembering his childhood home, Nate's gaze shifted across the city toward the Pilgrim's Path. His home given to those who might be held to blame for his family's misfortune. Who were being blamed, or congratulated, if the innkeeper was to be believed, for killing his father.
The wardens had his home and his family's belongings. They were rewarded for the deaths of his family. He couldn't simply do nothing to redress that. The children punished for crimes their father committed? It wasn't right. Something would have to be done. He couldn't let this stand.