My name is Daylen Devian, and let me just say that Thedas has gone to shit in the last few years. Now, I don't pretend that this thought is an original one, as any ignorant farmer could tell you that much, but I've traveled quite a bit, and seen plenty of crazy things, and I'd have died a hundred times over if I'd never met my friends. Oh, but here I am, getting ahead of myself already. I should start with how I met them I suppose. The story begins the way most of mine do, with me walking into a tavern. This particular tavern was the Gnawed Noble, in Denerim, where I'd been spending quite some time.
I strutted straight up to the counter, Maker was I arrogant back then, and pulled a mug from behind the counter. I had a running bet with the bartender that if I convinced a new set of people to buy me a drink for fifty consecutive visits to the tavern, he'd owe me five gold sovereigns. This was my forty-seventh visit, and it had only been two months, and I was so close to that coin, that I was already dreaming up ways to spend it. Swindling people out of their money tends not to make too many friends for a person, so most of the regular customers didn't care much for me. None of them ever intervened though, they all were fascinated to see if I could really win the bet. However, this meant that I'd have to find new outsiders and travelers every night, willing to pay for me. Still, my confidence was unaffected.
The bartender noticed me cleaning out one of his mugs and walked over to confront me.
"Hello again Torin," I grinned at the bartender, "I think you should probably just fill this mug now, we both know how this evening will go." I probably winked eight times during that one sentence, just because I knew how much it pissed the bastard off.
"You're a vile criminal, you know that?" he grumbled as he snatched the mug from my hands "Maker only knows how you convince all these people to buy you drinks."
I turned around chuckling and eyed my prey. For a few days, I had been keeping tabs on a pair that had just come to town, ripe for the swindling, and they were sitting at a table in the corner. I took a good long look at them, hoping for clues to how to take their money. One was a man, wearing incredibly gaudy silk brocade, such that it could only be Orlesian, a material no doubt popular with nobles. He had short but well-maintained hair of an outlandish pink color. However, other than that, his most capturing quality was his figure. He looked quite large and strong, yet his movements were understated and quick. Despite being a broad fellow, he seemed to sink and disappear into the wall at times, as if he were capable of being incredible inconspicuous but was instead deliberately choosing not to. His face was very bright as if it naturally showed a laugh, even when there wasn't one, and he had a pleasant and light mischief in his eyes. He seemed light-hearted and humble, a quality that is as rare in Orlais as a dwarven mage. Across from him sat a woman, short and solid with coarse black hair, pulled back into a neat little ponytail. Despite the fact that she was in the midst of a hearty laugh, her face didn't show any signs that she did so often. She had a roundish face, punctuated with dark brown eyes, that had a rim of silvery grey just around the pupils.
As I approached I heard the finely dressed man speak in a heavy Orlesian accent, confirming my theory on his origins, saying "Leylla, I tell you, we don't do this often enough. I understand that you-oh! Hello my friend," he said, breaking off from his thought as he noticed me approaching the table, "is there something we can help you with?"
"Good afternoon my friends! You don't mind if I join you, do you?"
The woman, apparently Leylla, had an amazing transformation of face. Her eyes burned with suspicious fire, her eyebrows arched and her laughing smile became a severe line.
"Not at all, not at all" the Orlesian said "I am Comte Pierre-Eric du la Dane, but you may simply call me 'Your Lordship'. Or Eric, if you prefer". As he said this, he stood up and gave a magnificent bow. "And this" he continued "is my wonderful companion, Ser Leylla Shuan".
I faltered a moment, but recovered my smile quickly. "Ser Leylla? You are a knight, then?"
She glared up at me, "That is exactly none of your business".
I laughed "Yes of course." I said, grinning to mask my growing panic. There were no other people in the tavern that didn't know me, and I had already entered so there was no going back unless I wanted to kiss those sovereigns goodbye. "Please excuse my manners, it wasn't my place to ask. Well now, since I know your names, it is only fair I give you mine. I am Thomond Thorinson, a regular around here. And if you wouldn't mind my company, I have a proposition for you."
The Orlesian's mouth twisted up into a magnificent smirk, "Ah, now you've caught my interest. Please do, sit..." he turned to Leylla "...if that's alright with you that is.
She grunted her begrudging consent.
"You see, my fine friends, I find myself in something of a situation. I don't live too terribly close to the tavern, and I've left my coinpurse back in my house. As such, if you save me the trip home tonight, I'll buy for you another night soon, before you leave town. How long are the two of you planning to stay?"
"You're much too curious." Leylla threatened.
"Oh, he's harmless Leylla," laughed Eric, "we'll be here a few weeks at least probably." Leylla shot him a dirty look, but he was unfazed "Well then, I'll get the two of us another round, and I'll buy a drink for you as well my friend."
"Oh, I do so appreciate it my friend." I beamed.
This was the first time I'd ever made a deal with anyone to get the to pay for me, being as I could usually trick them, or if nothing else, influence their mind with magic to indulge me. However, I could tell something was different with these two, and I had a feeling that I didn't want them as enemies. Still, I was in a good mood, being one day closer to winning my bet.
Eric and I walked up to the counter and ordered our drinks.
"What do you know," say the bartender "I happened to have a full mug already poured for you, right here Thomond." He tried to give me a sly smile, as if he were enjoying the joke, but I could tell he was getting upset about losing the bet. I couldn't help but be pleased with myself, nor could I get the smug look of triumph of my face.
However, one thing was still bothering me. Eric had introduced his friend as "Ser Leylla". Now, if she were a knight, all would be well, but if, instead, she turned out to be a Templar, I'd have to careful. I had worked too long and hard to protect my true identity from the people of Denerim. I had made great effort over the last several years, to avoid dangerous situations that could blow my cover. This also meant, however, that I never carried around my staff, and so facing down a Templar of unknown power would not be ideal. The two of them seemed to be unarmed, which was comforting, but I knew I needed to find out just how much danger I was in as soon as possible.
I decided to try and open a conversation politely so as not to get her upset.
"How are you this evening, Ser Leylla?" I asked innocently.
"I was having a swell evening." she said, still suspicious.
"You have a lovely name, might I ask where it comes from?" I inquired.
"My parents." she said flatly.
"Are you enjoying your ale?
"It's alright."
"And how do you like this tavern?"
"It's alright."
"Okay...uh...and how do you find Denerim so far?"
"It's alright."
"Is there anything you actually have a positive opinion of?"
"Yes, just not you."
I decided it was probably time for a change of tactics. The Orlesian man was chuckling awkwardly to try to fill in the silence left by his companion's blatant hostility.
"Well," he said cheerily, "I like this city well enough, and my only complaint about this tavern is how crowded it is."
I realized that the best course of action would probably be to simply wait until she'd had another pint or so, then, if necessary, use magic to bring her to a more positive state of mind. After just a few more sips, however, she began to relax on her own, and I realized I didn't need magic.
"Look, Thomond, was it? I'm awfully sorry for my harshness." she said, lightening up, "I'm always a little suspicious of strangers, especially those asking for free drinks."
"No worries, Ser Leylla, I-"
"No need for the 'Ser', just Leylla, please." she offered, her cheeks bright with drink and a smile.
"Glad to see you've come out of your shell, Leylla," grinned her friend "I was afraid you'd sulk all evening!"
"Oh, come off it-" she started, laughing, but I interrupted.
"Leylla?" A plan had formed in my head.
"Yes?"
"You strike me as the honorable type. Are you perhaps, a minor noble?"
"A noble? Me?" She practically laughed herself to death. "What gave you that idea?".
"The 'Ser'" I said mildly. I could see that it was working.
"No no, you mistake me. I am no noble, but a knight of the Templar Order, or rather, soon to be. We are here under Knight-Commander Tavish, for the security of Denerim. My commanding officer, Knight-Corporal Tyram, has been ordered by the Knight-Lieutenant to take some fully-trained recruits to complete an assignment alongside full-fledged knights as a final part of our training experience while we wait for the vigil where we are to take our vows. The corporal thought we'd start by hunting an apostate. I'm absolutely thrilled to be hunting an apostate, even if our corporal is a bloody idiot."
My heart held still a little. I knew that it was dangerous, just sitting there. I also knew that leaving, at that point would likely rekindle her suspicions. However, I had already won the nightly bet, and acquired my free drink, and I was not comfortable with sitting right in front of a Templar much longer, especially, if I happened to be the apostate that her unit was searching for. I sat and laughed with them as long as I could stand to, and it seemed like years. I had only just decided that to leave, when disaster struck.
"Well, thank you very much my friends, I've had a very pleasant evening. The next time we're all here, I'll return the favor, and I'm here quite often."
As I finished speaking I waved and turned around, bumping straight into the last person I wanted to see. Garin, leader of the Crimson Oars, flanked by four of his grunts, grinned at me. The Crimson Oars was a mercenary group that occasionally hung around the Gnawed Noble, but they never came with weapons and so the staff never gave them trouble. Recently, however, Garin had become a nuisance to me, trying to undermine my attempts to attain free drinks. Whether this was because he had an arrangement with the bartender, or simply enjoyed tormenting me, I did not know.
"Why hello there, Thomond." He said grinning, as if it were by accident that he had walked directly into me. "Going somewhere?"
I gulped. I had a terrible feeling about where the evening was going.