"Put these on," said Alistair, handing Morrigan a set of leathers from the party's spare gear. "And leave the staff behind."
I will not!" replied Morrigan, indignant. "You are a fool to even suggest such a thing!" she said, flinging the armor across the room.
Alistair sighed, rubbing his head in a vain attempt to thwart the headache he could feel coming on. "Do you want to get us all arrested, or worse, killed? We're heading to the Circle of Magi, in case you've forgotten; not exactly the place to be parading an obvious apostate around."
"Let them try to take me into custody. They would not stand a chance against me and my magic," she said, storming out of the room.
Alistair sighed again as he picked up the discarded clothing and returned it to their traveling chest. It was not yet dawn and he could already tell this was going to be a bad day. He left the room in search of Aurora; perhaps she could talk some sense into Morrigan for the Maker alone knew, he couldn't.
"Belch!" he heard upon entering the common room of the Spoiled Princess. "By the stones this is good ale! Pour me another, wench!" bellowed Oghren, holding up his empty mug.
"Oghren!" said Alistair, grabbing the tankard out of the dwarf's hands. "Enough! We need you sober."
"Sober? You want me sober?" Oghren replied, slurring his words. "Trust me, sober is the last thing you want me to be," he said, jumping up in an effort to reach the mug Alistair was holding high over his head.
"Have you seen Aurora?" Alistair asked, still holding the empty cup out of reach.
"I believe she went out," replied Zevran from behind the body of a nubile young waitress snuggled on his knee.
"Does no one sleep around here?" Alistair thought as he made his way to the door.
He hadn't made it two steps outside before the earth shook under his feet. "Andraste's ashes!" he yelled, seeing the source of the disturbance across the courtyard, in the form of a large golem. "Shale! By the Maker! What are you doing?"
"Damnable birds!" exclaimed Shale, stomping another chicken.
"Stop that! We will have to pay for all those chickens you've killed!" screamed Alistair, his headache full blown now.
Shale stopped and looked around at the bloody mess. "Sorry," she said, dipping her head in shame. "I couldn't help myself. They just kept clucking and would not be still!"
"Have you seen Aurora?" he asked, wearily.
"Down by the lake, I think," replied Shale, trying vainly to brush the mutilated bodies of the dead chickens under a bush.
Alistair headed towards the lake, not even noticing the beautiful sunrise spreading its warm glow across the water.
"I will cut out their tongues, as is proper," said Sten, stroking the knife in his hand.
"You will do no such thing!" replied Aurora. "That is not how things are done here in Ferelden."
"That should be remedied. Immediately."
"What's this?" Alistair asked, coming up to them.
"The Qunari cut out the tongues of their mages," said Aurora.
"Perhaps that might not be such a bad idea," replied Alistair, thinking of how his morning had begun.
"Unexpected," replied Sten.
"What? You can't be serious!" exclaimed Aurora.
"By the Maker, I swear there are times I wish I'd never left the Chantry and today is one of them," he said, taking a seat on a nearby log.
Aurora came and sat down beside him, taking his hand in hers. "Truly?"
Alistair looked into her eyes and the day began to brighten. "Almost."