"He's here, he must be." Thomas muttered, his voice but a low growl.

The dungeon under the Arl of Denerim's estate was dank and dark. Though Leliana was used to fighting in places like this the place here held a taste she wasn't used to. The suffering here was recent, filling her nostrils, invading her senses and making her want to heave. When it came to darkspawn infested lairs the heavy air of suffering could be understood, they were just monsters...but this was man...hurting man, with enough cruelty to match the creatures of the blight.

The soberer part of her also recognised that the place was all too familiar to the Orlesian dungeon she'd spent many a night of despair in.

Brushing past a nervous-looking Alistair and a Morrigan that mostly seemed concerned with not stepping in whatever the brown stuff on the black floor was Leliana stepped up to the door and placed an ear and a hand against the door. "There are...maybe half a dozen people in there...I think."

"She thinks." Morrigan echoed with a smirk.

Ignoring the witch Leliana turned towards Thomas. "If it's really Howe he will have the mage with him, should we-"

"It is Howe." Thomas replied, his eyes hard...staring right through Leliana, as if he could already see the man.

"Right, it's the only place he could be in since we've trudged through the entire dungeon..." Alistair grumbled with a smirk.

Leliana kept looking at Thomas though, to try and meet his gaze, it merely looked through her though. "Thomas, we can still talk, try and convince-"

"No." Thomas grabbed Leliana by the shoulder and forced her behind him, the usual kindness with which he treated his companions gone.

He...he shoved me?!

Even Morrigan raised an eyebrow at the casual way their leader brushed aside the woman they all knew to be his lover. It was Alistair that spoke up though, a hand scratching the back of his head."Erm...should we have some sort of plan? Or just-"

"You take care of the others, Howe is mine." Thomas growled and rolled his shoulders, despite already being warmed up from having fought his way through the many guards in the dungeon.

"Right...excellent plan. You take care of the big bad while we take care of the little baddies." Alistair rolled his eyes. "Smart, logical and tactically sound...all those things you've taught me to be."

"Tried." Morrigan corrected with a smirk, making Alistair huff in feigned irritation. By now Leliana couldn't help but wonder if their constant bickering didn't have an undertone of amusement to it...as if they didn't really dislike each other anymore...then they quickly shattered the idea by glaring at each other.

"I'm just saying that perhaps you should do the whole leader thing." Alistair said, making the other two, even Morrigan, nod. By now they were used to the instructions, the plan that their leader so quickly sketched out, confident as ever. "Before we rush into the room of nasty deaths."

Thomas ignored him and instead reached towards his back. Not once had the man drawn the sword strapped to his back since they've entered, instead he'd been using the one strapped to his hip. Yet now...Leliana watched the blade being bared with a worried lump in her throat.

It was...familiar. Leliana had a dim memory of seeing the man using it back at Lothering, but seeing it now was odd...hadn't Thomas been the one ordering that all things that were no longer in use was to be sold? Yet he had apparently still kept this sword. Though beautifully crafted and decorated the grey iron blade couldn't possibly be a match compared to the heavily enchanted blade pulled from the very deep roads Thomas usually used...yet now he drew it...in the face of a no doubt hard fight.

Blinking she tried to remember if she'd asked him about it. I...have...haven't I? Back in camp...

'This is the sword of highever, the sword of my family, perhaps not so useful...but I still keep it around.'

'It's beautiful...though didn't you sell that shield that came from your family? Why not sell the sword too?'

'Because this one still has a purpose left to it, one final deed.'

Thomas hadn't said anything more that day, his gaze had remained distant, looking up at the night sky, leaving a confused Leliana to uselessly try to prod him for more information.

And now he drew it, a blade she'd almost forgotten about...and as she watched...lifted it to his lips, eyes closed in something close to reverence.

She suddenly felt a thick lump form in the pit of her stomach.

The former templar sighed. "Look, we can't just rush in and-"

The click of Thomas' helmet being latched fast to his head interrupted Alistair and made the man scramble for his own helmet. Leliana, her leather helmet already on, glanced over at Morrigan, sharing a look. Maker...even the witch is worried.

Taking a deep breath she took a step forward and reached for Thomas. "Please, we must think things through, at least tell us what-"

The man stepped forward before she could reach him...and kicked the door in.

The lock cracked apart, sending splinters of wood flying as the door flew open. Barely had the dust settled before Thomas came in, forcing the others to rush into the unknown with him...and nearly stumble over him as their leader equally quickly stopped.

The dungeon room was just like any other, filthy and musky. Slime and moss grew in the cracks of the walls...and the smell of blood was barely perceivable over that of faeces and rotting flesh. It was a little larger than the others though.

Rendon Howe was a mere dozen feet away, flanked by two guardsmen the man was still crouched down by what remained of a prisoner, the pale sack of flesh bleeding from dozens of deep wounds...Leliana instantly realized that whoever that was he was with the Maker by now. Brushing his hands off the old man rose, his eyes narrowing as he took in the new arrivals. "Well, well...if it's not the little snot nosed child I once carried over my shoulder, all grown up."

"Howe..." Thomas hissed, the word dripping with venom.

"Indeed, eloquent...my lord." Howe sneered, the smile of his oddly confident. Does he not realize he's at the point of being killed!? "I'm grateful that you're here actually, it'll be my pleasure to personally end your line."

Leliana swallowed. There were no instructions from Thomas, no casual nod or shifting of his hand to show what he wanted them to do, instead he was just glaring at Howe, all other things forgotten.

Like the two mages...

One was further back behind Howe, casually leaning against the wall as he looked at the proceedings, confidently eyeing the new arrivals, as if defeating them would be no trouble at all. The other one, a cleanly shaved man to the right, was staring at Morrigan with wide eyes, apparently recognising the witch for what she truly was...Morrigan answered the staring with a smirk.

Swallowing once more Leliana nudged Alistair and nodded towards the mage to the right, then tapped Morrigan on the foot with her bow and inclined her head towards the guards flanking Howe. This isn't my...why isn't Thomas doing this!?

"Why?" Thomas took a step forward, his entire being shaking with barely controlled rage. "Why!? You were our friend! Our ally! Why would you kill them!? Why!?" The last word almost seemed to be hurled at Howe, making the man take a step backwards.

There was no hesitation in the reply though, no fear or regret. In fact Howe's voice was angry as Thomas': "Why not!?" He drew his axe and dagger, revealing the deadly shimmer of enchantments covering them. "Your family has always been so comfortable in your role! So complacent! By all right I should have been made Teyrn years ago! But those silly peasants loved your parents! Loved the ones so haughtily keeping away in their castle while I trudged on and did tasks too menial for this great family!"

"Don't you dare speak of them!" Thomas snapped, an odd creaking noise making Leliana look down at his hand holding his sword. Maker...his hand is digging into the iron of the grip! "You have no right!"

"I have all right to speak of those that so long kept me from my proper station!" Howe snapped back. "But what do you know? You who have been born into a life of luxury? You have never been forced to fight for every scrap of food! You have never struggled till you've nearly collapsed...only to see someone else take the credit and the ovations!" Howe bared his teeth, practically snarling at Thomas:."You know nothing of what I've gone through to get here!"

Leliana glanced at Thomas, expecting some sort of angry lecture of what they'd all gone through with their struggles to gather an army...instead she found the warrior's voice as dark as a demon's: "I see only the faces of the innocent dead you've walked across...and you about to get your heart ripped out!"

Howe snorted. "Brave words child, brave words." He cocked his head to the side, a cruel smile sneaking its way to his lips. "I wish your parents had been so brave..."

"Shut up!" Despite expecting him to snap Leliana found herself jumping at the sound of Thomas' voice. It's so...different.

"Your father didn't put up much of a fight..he merely begged me to spare your mother as I slowly...gutted him..." Howe's smile widened even as the others with a mix of sympathy and fear watched Thomas twitch at the words, a low growl escaping him. "Your mother put up more of a fight, but when the armour came off and my sergeants were allowed to play freely...well.." He chuckled. "...she begged me to end it at the end, but I would not let her die that easily, oh no, instead I-"

"Shut up!"

Howe's smile didn't fade for a second. "Very well, once you're mine I'll have all the time in the world to tell you...and demonstrate." The smile turned into a snarl. "Get them!"

Thomas shot forward, the man a mere blur as he charged. "HOWE!" The roar sent both of the man's guards stumbling back in fright, leaving the old man to take on the charging warden on his own, which he did in a flurry of sparks.

The mage to their right screamed as a dark shadow struck him from above...clutching his head the mage stumbled away from the charging Alistair whose fist still sparked with whatever energy the templar had unleashed. As Howe ducked and weaved, slowly being forced backwards by Thomas Morrigan struck, the cold spell of hers freezing both guards before they even had time to get to their feet.

Leliana was only half aware of this though, her own mind focused on the man in the background, the mage there having pulled his staff free and weaving his arms around in preparation for some complex spell.

Leliana's arrow struck the staff, forced it backwards...and pinned it to the wall behind the man. His curse was lost in the scream of the other mage losing his arm though, the still twitching limb still clutching the staff as the other desperately tried to stem the flow of blood. Alistair quickly ended it though, his blade dutifully darting out and slitting the mage's throat.

Then one of the guards, skin still blue from his frozen state, came up at Leliana. Scrambling back Leliana blocked the swinging sword with her bow, then kicked out against the man's knee and sent him down on all four. A quick draw and release...and Leliana's arrow burrowed itself in the man's neck, felling him.

The other guard was even less effective. He came at Morrigan, blade stretched out, as if wishing to kill Morrigan with as much distance between the two as possible...then violently jerked to a stop and rose from the ground. Strange blue lights rose from the ground he stood on...jerking and twisting the man's mouth opened to scream...only to suddenly spew blood as his back loudly snapped.

Scary witch...

Not wanting to think about the horrible fate of her foe Leliana focused on the last mage, who by now had freed his staff and sent Alistair flying backwards with a blast of energy. Barely pausing to watch the former templar fly back into a wall he turned to the two women by the door. Leliana drew her bowstring back, far behind her ear...and took aim...her focus on nothing but the man's head, that silly cowl of his with the lone ruby at the front...for that was all that was important.

Morrigan gasped as the mage blasted her with a bolt of lightning, the bolt barely missing the ducking and weaving pair of warriors still duelling in the centre of the room. Cursing the witch rolled on the floor, struggling to put out the fire on her skirt.

Leliana released the bowstring.

With a crunch the arrow struck the ruby and shattered it inwards, a small shimmer escaping it as whatever magic it held was destroyed. The arrow continued though, the pieces of the ruby following...and no doubt scrambling the brain as they entered his skull along with the arrow.

For a moment the mage just stood there, then blood begun to flow from his eyes...then some from his ears...then he fell, not a sound escaping him.

Leaving only Howe alive, still fighting a crazed Thomas.

Thomas fought without his normal discipline, his sword a wild blur that hacked after Howe without the slightest finesse...cleaving the air as Howe continued to duck and weave away. Leliana gasped as she saw the older man's dagger and axe wet with blood, and the great rents in Thomas armour left no illusion who was winning.

Alistair charged to the man's help...only to be knocked over by Thomas pommel striking him in the visor. "No! He's mine!"

"You always were a fool." Howe taunted, easily manoeuvring to put Thomas between him and any stray arrow or bolt of lightning. Morrigan and Leliana silently move down each side of the room, each ready...yet hesitant to attack, even with his helmet on Leliana could see the mad glint in Thomas' eyes. Maker...I'm not sure I dare intervene."Even if these friends of yours kill me I'll die happily...you hear me? I'll die happily knowing I ended a line of nobles that has stopped my family for so long!"

"Shut up and fight!" Came the growl as Thomas hacked and slashed after the darting Howe, only to be rewarded with another blow breaking through his armour, this time at the thigh, spilling his blood all over the floor.

"My family will grow strong and prosperous! Yours will be forgotten! Not even a memory!"

"Shut up!"

"And finally Ferelden will know justice!"

"Justice!?" Thomas shield suddenly flew out of his grasp...and struck Howe in the throat.

A cough escaped the arl, then Thomas fist was around his throat and his sword in his gut. Pulling him close the warden pushed Howe upwards, lifting him off the floor with one hand as the other wrenched at the blade, making Howe's eyes roll back in his skull.

"This...is justice!"

In an explosion of gore Thomas pulled his sword out sideways, gouging a deep horizontal wound across Howe's stomach.

Snarling Thomas pushed out, sending the man flying backwards. With a crack Howe landed on his back, torn intestines and blood pouring out from the wound across his stomach.

Somehow he was still alive though.

Still on his back the man struggled up unto one elbow, his other hand clutching at his wound, trembling hand trying to keep his guts from spilling out. The eyes were narrowed in anger though, as if the great wound was nothing but an inconvenience: "Maker...spit on you! I... deserved...more!"

With that the man fell back, dead.

"It's...over." Leliana breathed, suddenly realizing she had held her breath. She managed a smile, looking over at Thomas. The man was a statue, his sword still dripping with Howe's blood, his arms and legs...all frozen still, through the slits of his helmet Leliana could see that he wasn't even blinking. "Come...it's over."

"'Tis quite satisfying, to kill your mortal enemy, should we celebrate?" Morrigan offered, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

The man didn't stir, his gaze still fixed upon the dead man at his feet.

"Hey, lets go save the queen and get a hero's welcome?" Alistair tried, forcing a smile even as he pulled his helmet off. "It'll be a great help to save Ferelden you know, the thing we're doing...hello?"

She saw it, a small tremor running through Thomas body, a small vibration.

"Deserved...more?" It was nothing but a whisper.

Taking a step forward she reached for him. "Hey you, lets just..."

"I'll give you more!" Thomas stepped over the corpse and stabbed his sword into the floor right next to Howe's head. Crouching down he blocked Leliana's view of Howe as he straddled the dead man's chest, she felt her worry grow as the man drew the dagger in his belt.

"Hey lets not go..." Alistair started, only to grimace as Thomas quickly raised his dagger...and stabbed down at the corpse. "...overboard." There was a fleshy sound of bones and flesh breaking...and Alistair suddenly looked away. "Okay...Thomas, that right there is not okay."

Leliana felt her bow drop from limp fingers as she watched Thomas' shoulders move back and forth in a sawing motion, all accompanied with more fleshy sounds. "Rendon Howe." The voice was dull, emotionless, but Leliana picked up on the undertone, the dark rage...evil...coursing beneath it.

Maker...no....

"In the name of Andraste and the Maker himself...I curse you." The man's left hand punched forward with a crunching sound, then pulled up and raised its prize high. It was dark and fleshy, dripping with blood...Howe's heart. Leliana took a step backwards, all colour draining from her face. No, no, no.... "May you never find peace."

She took a step forward, a protest about to escape her lips, but found herself stopped by a hand on her shoulder. Looking to its owner she found Morrigan, the witch carefully shaking her head. For a moment Leliana considered snapping at the woman, but there was something in those eyes...if Leliana didn't know better she would have sworn it was concern...and Leliana found herself stopping mid-stride.

"May your spirit always wander, never to find the light." Thomas reached down and placed the heart on the filthy floor. "May it only know grief and shame. All who sees it shall know nothing but scorn for it, for they shall see the darkness in your heart." He stabbed down, his dagger nailing the heart to the floor. "May your blood forever be cursed, shamed by your deeds, may your family wither and die, leaving nothing but a legacy of shame behind." Leaning forward Leliana could barely hear the man hiss: "For that...is justice."

"Okay...creepy time's over now..." Alistair muttered and stepped forward, only to stumble back as Thomas straightened, his hand reaching down towards the already broken corpse. "Oh for....don't do-"

"May you never again gaze upon beauty, you shall only know darkness." A crunching sound and Leliana found her throat tightening. Maker...no...this is wrong. "May you never hear a comforting word, or the song of birds." A fleshy sound, of ripping flesh. "May you only speak, and only of the deeds you committed, for that is all you deserve." Thomas...no...don't you realize that what you're doing is blasphemous!?

There was a loud crunch as Thomas grunted with effort, then a splattering sound. Leliana felt the world wobble as she saw the man raise his arms above his head.

He was holding Howe's head, having ripped it right off his shoulders. There was nothing but bloody ruins gazing at Leliana where the eyes were supposed to be, making her shiver...and blood was pouring from where the ears were supposed to be. His mouth hung wide open, as if screaming at her, asking her to do...something! Only at the neck was it worse, a bloodied spine sticking out from underneath torn skin, leaving blood to pour from the gaping hole...right over Thomas, turning him dark red...just like a demon of rage.

The man rose to his feet, slowly, as if carrying a great weight. "And may you never receive the final chant." He slammed the head down upon the pommel of the sword still sticking out from the ground. There wasn't much resistance and Howe's head easily slid down, his chin finally coming to upon the sword's hilt.

Leliana's gaze darted between the mutilated skull and the equally mutilated body...and the only thing keeping her from heaving was the fear gripping her as the blood soaked man turned to face her. The eyes were dark, uncaring, cruel. "We're leaving." He moved towards her, one hand reaching for her face...and Leliana couldn't help but draw back.

Something flickered behind the eyes, something...then he looked away. "We...we'll talk later." There it was, regret, if but a little.

And where there's regret there's hope. "I..." Leliana took a deep breath and forced herself to look at the horrible thing Thomas had done, to truly take in what he had meant with the gory ceremony...so that she might forgive him. "...yes...talk." Maker...he knew not what he was doing, please...

The nod was small, almost fearful, which was a bit odd seeing in a warrior soaked in the blood of his foe. "Thank you..." He turned to Morrigan, the witch watching the proceeding with a neutral look on her face. "Torch this room, I want nothing remaining."

"Very well." Morrigan replied and pulled forth her staff, her head slightly inclined as she watched Thomas brush past her, Alistair right at his heel, a concerned look on his face. Sharing a worried look with Leliana the witch shrugged and turned her staff at the room.

Leaning against the doorway Leliana watched the room burn, whatever magic Morrigan had called upon it was potent, for as Leliana watched she saw drops of liquid iron run from the sword still standing in the room. The head atop it was nothing but a torch, making for a frightening effigy, especially since the blackening body of the man lay before it.

It almost looks like a grave...a horrible grave.

The head turned to ash even as the sword begun to crumble, the entire blade melting into nothing but a puddle.

When the fire died out there was nothing left. Morrigan visibly breathed out as the fired died out, as did Leliana, but for an entirely different reason. "And now...the healing can begin."