The Double Double-Cross, Part 1

Krem cradled his teacup in both hands, a bit terrified he'd end up spilling its contents on what looked to be an expensive tablecloth. It was just as well the Chief hadn't come himself; the room was so full of furniture and knick-knacks that just squeezing the big lug past the china cabinet would have been tricky. Doing it without breaking anything would have been nigh impossible.

"So Serah… Aclassi, was it? Does that sound like something your team can handle?"

"We go into the mine, take out the bandits who murdered your business partner, report back," Krem answered. "Sounds simple enough." And a damn sight better than their last job. This one would see that everyone got paid and nobody had to dress up in feathers.

"Distasteful business, I'm afraid, but yes." The man's name was Brayton Belcourt. A Free Marcher, but one of those rich ones who liked to play at being as fancy as the Orlesians.

One of Belcourt's dogs came over and laid its head in Krem's lap, leaving a slimy trail of slobber across his thigh as it sniffed at Krem's plate in the hopes that a morsel of cake might remain. Krem didn't dare shoo it away considering their potential employer had spent most of the meeting speaking in a baby voice to the animal and feeding it from the table.

"Shouldn't take more than a day or two. Especially if we can get those maps you promised," Krem assured him.

"The maps will be yours. Along with this…" Belcourt slid a note across the table for Krem to examine. His eyes widened as he turned it over to reveal a rather large number. "Half of that up front, and a bonus if your crew is willing to dispose of the bodies as well. I want their filth gone from my mine."

Krem knew well enough to recognize a no questions asked sort of number when he saw one. Still, it would be enough to keep every last Charger paid for a month, and work this far north had been slim pickings. He gave Belcourt a lopsided smile, rose to his feet and offered out his hand to shake. "I'll let the Iron Bull know that the Chargers have a new client."

Back at camp, Krem could tell the team were restless. Work had been slow of late, and they'd been camping in this spot for a few days with nothing to do but wait. It happened every once in awhile, especially with mercenary bands that hadn't been around long enough to earn much of a reputation yet.

He found the Iron Bull over at the edge of camp interviewing that Fereldan they'd found in a tavern a couple of nights back. He was a healer: something they'd sorely needed for a couple of months now. Their last healer - Potions, as the boss had called him - had vanished mysteriously. Dalish swore blind that she'd seen him turn himself into a nug and frolic off into the woods, but the others had just assumed the templars had nabbed him or he'd blown himself up with some spell gone wrong.

"Ah, and here's my Lieutenant, Cremesius Aclassi," Iron Bull announced as he saw Krem draw near. "Krem, you remember Stitches? He's going to come along for the next job. Kind of a trial run to see if he's a good fit. His idea."

"Stitches isn't actually my name," the man pointed out as he and Krem shook hands. He didn't sound particularly irked though.

Krem just smiled. "The Chief gives everyone nicknames. Everyone he's planning to keep, anyhow."

Before Stitches could say anything to that, Iron Bull looked to Krem and asked, "How was the meeting?"

"Oh yeah. So nice of you to send me to have tea with the rich bastard who treats his dogs better than his servants." It had been the right choice. They both knew that the man had given off an oxmen are nothing but savages sort of vibe. Krem was still going to give Bull a hard time about it though.

"Now, now, don't be sour, Krem." Bull suddenly nudged the newcomer with his elbow, almost knocking the man off balance. "Get it? Sour Krem?"

As Bull started laughing - just him and no one else - Krem rolled his eyes and looked to Stitches. "Don't mind the Chief, he'll still pay you even if you don't laugh at his jokes."

Stitches looked relieved. "That's good to know, Ser."

Bull wasn't fazed. "Come and meet some of the men," he said, gesturing to where several familiar faces were gathered around the campfire not far off. "Rocky here's our sapper. Then there's Grim - he doesn't say much - and Dalish. Dalish is–"

Dalish interrupted before he could finish. "I'm not a–"

"–not a mage, we know," Krem cut in.

"I was going to say I'm not a man," Dalish argued. "But now that you mention it..."

Krem rolled his eyes. "Right."

Bull turned to the dwarf of the party and said, "Rocky, think you can get our new company healer settled in?"

Rocky immediately hopped to his feet. "You got it, boss." As the dwarf led their new recruit further into the camp, he was already speaking so fervently about all the different types of explosives he could make that Stitches couldn't get a word in edgeways.

Bull then turned to speak with his Lieutenant, and Krem could tell by the way he held himself and the more pensive expression on his face that now it was time for a more serious discussion.

"What's your read on the guy?"

Krem's gaze followed Rocky and Stitches. "Seems a bit stoic, but Fereldans are like that, aren't they? He'll loosen up once Rocky gets a few drinks in him."

Bull's mouth twitched. "I meant Belcourt."

"Ah." Krem shrugged. "Rubs me the wrong way if I'm honest, but the job's simple and the pay is good."

Bull raised an eyebrow. "You think he's not telling us the whole story?"

Krem gave Bull that look to say he knew what the Chief was doing. Bull had been teaching his Lieutenant to consider all the angles before they started a job for someone they didn't know, and this was a test of how well the lessons had stuck. "I think he likes his money and his status more than he likes anything or anyone else, save maybe his dogs. People like him are always hiding something. Could be nothing."

"Could be something," Bull countered. "You still took the job though."

"It shouldn't be risky and we need the money," was all Krem had to say to that.

Nodding in agreement, Iron Bull suddenly turned back to camp and raised his voice enough that it would carry over whatever everyone else was doing. "Get ready to move out, Chargers! We just got hired."

The explosion was impressive, and Rocky looked far too pleased with himself as the mine entrance loudly collapsed into a pile of boulders. Krem rolled his eyes as the man did the usual little dance in celebration, kicking his little dwarven legs as high as he could. Still, nothing had exploded that wasn't supposed to explode, which wasn't always the case when Rocky got excited.

Bull gave Krem a nudge with his elbow and said, "Looks like we're off to a Rocky start," prompting the Lieutenant to let out a noise that was half laugh, half sigh.

It wasn't the only entrance into the mine, just the Chargers' way of ensuring their quarry didn't escape the back way. Now all they had to do was attack from the front.

"Let's give these bandits their eviction notice, shall we?" the Chief said once everyone had gathered at the entrance.

Bull led the charge, with Krem hot on his heels, both roaring as they ran in. This was always Krem's favourite part, when his blood started to pump and the world suddenly became a much simpler place where everything boiled down to the Chargers and the people in their way.

At first it seemed like there were only a handful of men with swords and shields, and Krem wondered for a moment if Belcourt had overpaid them. Then their targets fell back to a space deeper inside the mine, leaving the Chargers little choice but to pursue, and Krem began to worry what these bandits might have managed to cook up once the back way had been collapsed.

Sure enough, as they followed their quarry, some rogues appeared from stealth to flank them. "Behind us. Watch your asses, Chargers!" Bull called to alert anyone who might not have noticed.

It was a tougher fight than they were expecting, that was certain. Maybe that was the reason they'd been offered so much money. The bandits had decent weapons and knew what they were doing with them, and soon the Chargers were taking nearly as much punishment as they were doling out.

A shield bash that Krem really should have been ready for knocked him off his feet, landing him flat on his back and winded by the fall. As his attacker moved to follow through with a downward blow, Krem had just one word on his mind. Shit...

Just then, a sudden cry of, "Fire!" made the man about to kill Krem pause and look up. Krem arched his head to see Dalish summon a large ball of flame and let it fly.

Had it hit its target, it probably would have knocked the man off his feet. Instead, it crashed into the ceiling above them. Krem was faintly aware of Dalish muttering, "Whoopsie," but his main focus was on rolling out of the way of his attacker. It was a good thing too, since in the next moment the man was crushed to death as part of the ceiling collapsed - thanks, of course, to Dalish's fireball.

"Dalish!" Krem roared as a boulder crashed into the ground just inches from his head, and loose dust and rubble rained down over him. "Mind the spells!"

"I don't have any spells, but if I did have any, then I would've saved your hide and you wouldn't have a scratch on you. So you'd be welcome," she said indignantly as she held a hand out to help him up.

Krem sighed, then nodded. "Then I'd say thanks for the uh…. fire flask," he said softly as the fighting came to a standstill around them.

Once he was on his feet, he took a moment to survey the damage. None of the Chargers seemed to have been caught in the cave-in. Their side of the collapse seemed stable, and they had a clear path to the mine's entrance. That was good. What was more, Dalish seemed to have managed to pen in all the bandits who'd survived their initial foray. That was good too. Maybe from here, they'd just have to lay siege for a bit, and clear the rubble enough to finish them all off once they were too hungry to put up much of a resistance.

Only when he noticed that Bull wasn't saying any of this out loud did Krem realize that one of them had managed to slash the Chief across the chest. The Qunari hissed through his teeth as he pressed a hand to the cut, applying pressure like every good soldier knew to do while waiting for the healer's attention.

"You all right, Chief?" Krem asked, letting a bit of concern into his voice as he moved closer.

Bull answered that with a what does it look like? sort of look, but Krem knew it was just frustration over taking a hit he thought he should have seen coming.

"Any of that seem strange to you?" Bull asked, sitting down on a boulder, just as Stitches arrived to silently examine the wound.

"Well-equipped for bandits," Krem noted. "They were ready for us and they fought like a team."

Stitches gave Bull a clean cloth to press over the wound, then settled down beside them, removed several items from his pack and began crushing herbs with a pestle and mortar. "The matching green cloaks were strange, I thought," the Fereldan added, not looking up from his work.

"Right. That too," said Bull. "What did Belcourt tell you about them?" he asked Krem.

"Just that they murdered his business partner and burned down the guy's house. Then moved into the mine, kicked all the workers out and dug in deep," Krem answered.

"Could be there's something valuable down here that they were hired to find by a business rival," Stitches offered. At the same time, he bundled up the herbs he'd mixed together into some cloth, then poured some water from his skin onto it.

"Hey, that's not a bad theory," Bull noted, sounding impressed.

"What's the plan for now?" asked Krem.

"We wait," Bull decided. "We could clear the rubble, but it's better to let them tire themselves out doing it. They'll need to come out sooner or later. When they do, we'll be ready."

When their new healer offered out the soggy bundle of cloth he'd made, Bull just stared at it for a moment, a rare perplexed look on his face. Then he shrugged, raised it to his lips and sucked out the liquid. When he was done, he coughed, pounded his chest, then rose to his feet. "Damn, that's some nasty tasting medicine right there," he laughed, patting Stitches on the back before he left to check on some of the others.

Stitches blinked in confusion. "It's a poultice," he said to Krem. "He wasn't supposed to drink it."

Krem just grinned. "Don't tell him. Let's see how long it takes him to figure it out for himself."

They set up camp not far from the collapse and took turns to go on watch, with one person manning the mine's front entrance and one manning the pile of rubble that had the bandits trapped. Krem took the last watch by the mine's entrance, bleary-eyed as he stumbled out to relieve Grim in the last couple of hours before the dawn. Not exciting work, but Krem didn't mind the time alone with his thoughts - especially when something about the job didn't seem to line up.

In hindsight, a bit less thinking and a bit more paying attention might have saved him from being surprised by the woman who snuck up behind him. "Do what I say and I won't hurt you," her voice murmured close to his ear as a dagger pressed to his throat.

"Can't really promise you the same," Krem replied, using a clever little maneuver the Chief had taught him to get the dagger away from his neck and throw the woman over his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, keeping her arms pinned to her sides so that she couldn't stab him.

"Where did you come from?" he demanded, right before her head snapped back to smack him in the nose. The impact made his eyes tear and he felt blood trickle out of his nostrils and down over his lips.

"I was on this side when your mage made the ceiling cave in. I hid," came her answer, just as her boot crunched down on his foot and she swivelled around to tackle him. He hadn't had time to recover from the assault on his nose to really do anything to stop it.

Only then did Krem get a good look at her face. She was cute for a bandit: dark hair pulled back into a loose low ponytail and a smattering of freckles over her nose. She pressed her dagger to his throat and Krem closed his eyes tightly, sure that she was about to slit him open. Certain as he was that he was about to die, all he could think was that he'd failed the Chief.

"I'm not going to kill you," he heard her say. "I need your help. We got played by Belcourt. Just like he's playing you."