Alright now on to the real story :P for those who are curious this story stars an alternate dalish origin. An Oc i created with a slightly different background. I made the prologue short and vague for a reason...no need to give everything away!

This is my -first- fanfiction-give me support and I'll write faster.

All rights go to Bioware! I own nothing but my own character.

A lot of people say that when you die you see a light, the brightest light you've ever seen but you don't need to squint into it.

Those people never said anything about the mingle of male and female voices talking around you-over you. Soft ad soothing, surely whoever spoke was undeniably attractive.

Zevran gave a lazy grin in his state, awaiting these 'angels' that had come to greet him...or devils...it was hard to tell really and he was hardly a man with a moral compass that pointed straight. Why would people lie about the voices but not the light? It was such a shame to leave out this detail.

At least he thought so-so far death was pleasant, no need to whine and fuss about it.

He was brought out of his musing however by the sudden ice cold water being poured over his face, his eyes shot open and he spluttered; the one pouring the water didn't stop as he thrashed, using every ounce of water on him until he was partially soaked.

Zevran grimaced-death was now marginally less enjoyable in wet leathers.

He heard a thump and opened his eyes to see an empty water flask hitting the ground, he blinked several times before raising his eyes to look at his 'angels.' The movement sent his head pounding, vision blurring as he once again blinked, finally focusing in on their faces

His angels looked suspiciously like the ones he had been sent here to kill.

He should have been wiser-he should have stayed 'dead.'

Four people stood around him or rather two men and two women.

One of the men had dirty blond hair and bright eyes, his face was oddly regal, his chin was held high even as he looked down at the elf through narrowed eyes. He wore armor that showed him as a warden commander-yet Zevran doubted that was truly his rank. A sword and shield rested on his back and the assassin recalled now that the shield had been rushing towards his head.

The other man had grayish brown skin with odd red markings-tattoos? Violet eyes were ironically dull, sunk into his skull rather deeply, his hair was white and two thick horns curled to the back of his head.

Good grief one of his angels was a bloody Qunari-he didn't need to be laying down to note the size difference between this giant and the others.

Then there was the women, One with dark hair pulled into a bun, bangs falling into wild golden eyes that oddly resembled that of a cats. She was exotic and Zevran was sure she would be quite fiery between the bed sheets. Her attire was revealing and he struggled to focus on her face-or note the staff across her back.

Two warriors a Mage and then...

His eyes moved slowly to the woman that now removed her hood,the movement catching his attention as she then slowly knelt before him-and it was then that he realized a dagger was pressed to to his throat.

But his gaze was fixed upon the Elven woman before him, Thick brownish red hair was cut short and stylishly around her small face, it fell to just below her chin, nearly touching her shoulders. Eyes were the color of emeralds, staring at him with an almost...blank detached appearance. She was cold and uncaring towards him. He felt chilled by looking at her. Dalish markings intricately wove over her forehead and cheeks, enchancing the effect of her wide eyes. Red lips were full and currently pressed together tightly.

He remembered her now...the one that had matched him move for move in the battle. She was like a dancer with her blades. He'd say she was a rogue but her style was even more intricate than his.

He felt severely outmatched with just this small woman before him.

This assessment took but a few seconds that felt like decades. They awaited for him to speak so he groaned and shifted his weight, noting his tied hands behind his back.

"I rather thought i'd wake up dead...or not at all as the case may be"

The woman's eyes narrowed. "That can easily be fixed...I Just need some answers first."

Zevran held his straight face, listening to her voice and barely registering her words, the voice was the female one he had heard-ah so this was his angel.

"Ah so you intend to weasel information out from your prisoner? Very well, allow me to save you some time. My name is Zevran-Zev to my friends. and I was an Antivan crow sent here with the task of killing any surviving grey wardens. A task I have failed at, sadly. "

The girl snorted. "I am rather happy you failed."

Zevran smiled, winking at her and chuckling internally as her face twisted in disgust. "As would I were I in your position."

The man with the high chin suddenly looked down in confusion, brows furrowing as it went silent for a moment before he spoke.

"I'm sorry, but what in the name of the maker are the Antivan Crows?"

Zevran opened his mouth to respond, eyes remaining on the Beauty before him-which is why he saw her cut him off-her brilliant eyes flashing like quicksilver.

"I know what they are...assassins, liars and thieves. Sons of whores and monsters alike." Her beautiful features had now turned ugly. Were Zevran not so surprised by what she said he may have shrunken back in fear.

The man looked even more confused. "Then...why are we keeping him alive?"

The woman paused..."Leverage." that was her only response, and Zevran fought to not raise his eyebrow in curiosity.

"Now then..." she turned her head back to Zevran. "Tell me all that you know of this little situation."

Zevran nodded, offering another sly grin to her. "Very well...I was hired by a rather angry fellow in the capitol...Loghain I think his name was...yes that was it. The crows were paid handsomely for their services for we do have a reputation to upkeep...though we get nothing for the dirty-work save what we take from our target's pockets."

She tilted her head. "Are you not loyal to your employer?"

Zevran chuckled softly. "My dear woman you demanded the answers and I was not paid for silence-not that I offered it for sale exactly."

She sighed and nodded. "Very well...that's all I really needed to know."

Zevran nodded again, his smile still in place. "I see...if we are done then...I have a proposition for you."

She offered a smile that did not touch her eyes. "Are you about to plead for your life by offering your skills to my little group?" she spoke pleasantly but Zevran heard the false note within it.

"I was indeed...I am quite talented, you could use me." He lowered his voice to a purr noting the way she rolled her eyes and trying not to let his frustration show.

"No need to beg..."

She leaned forward, her face close to his and Zevran wondered excitedly what she planned to do...the dagger at his neck had fallen away.

Only to strike at the back of his head...and once again he was in the dark.

Maker curse whoever said there was light in this.