A.N.

Ok, this will be the last chapter for at least a week or so unless I get random inspiration tomorrow. This also marks the shift to first-person P.O.V., which I write better.

If anyone has any suggestions for how I could improve my writing, or would like me to rewrite a specific piece just write it in a review and I will get onto that as soon as I can.

I will try to update once a week, but that may not always be possible.

Feedback is always appreciated – positive or negative.

I take some liberties with Kirkwall's layout, but that can't be all of the city that we see in the game. I will explain at the start of each chapter any new bits I add in.

For example:

Market Street: Hightown, similar to the square where Worthy hangs out, only I see it as being bigger with more merchants and some stores, maybe an inn or two.

The Bazaar: Lowtown, a long street with many merchant stalls, tanners, smithies, that sort of thing, similar to where Lady Elegant sets up her potions stand but more crowded and slightly bigger. Very smelly, because everything is open air. The Hanged Man is on a side street.

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

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What, you think I'm making this up?

Seeker, I assure you that that is not the case. I couldn't come up with this stuff if I tried.

… Is Bethany being a blood mage that unbelievable? Do you want me to continue or would you rather go with your assumptions?

…

I thought so. Listen well, because I'm not repeating this.

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First off, you'll need some more background information before I get to the good bits. I promise to be brief.

The de Launcet children couldn't hide their talents from their father indefinitely. Eventually he found out, and rather than call the Templars on them, he disowned them. His relationship with Leandra was strained from the beginning, and this was the final nail in the coffin. She took her children, moved in with her brother, Gamlen and set about annulling her marriage.

Now, the Amell grandparents had wanted to leave a good chunk of their inheritance to Leandra, but since she was married to the Comte, and as I understand it had a bit of a falling out with them, she refused to claim her inheritance when they died. Everything went to Gamlen. Of course, he wasn't the smartest with money, so he gambled, drank and slept his way through a good chunk of it.

He somehow managed to hold onto the house, but the Amell fortune was vastly depleted. Just enough left to pay the taxes that year.

The siblings needed a miracle. They got one. Just maybe not the right one.

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It was a sunny day in Hightown when I met the siblings in 9:31 Dragon. Well, two of them at any rate.

Carver had joined up with a mercenary company first chance he got, and Bethany sent most of her days in the Chantry, trying to catch a glimpse of you know who, or hob-nobbing with the elite. Between the two youngest, the family could eat and avoid a scandal, but they were going to be strung out to dry come next year when they didn't have any tax money.

Leandra had shut herself away and kept trying to contact someone from her past.

Ugh! Yes, I know who, no I'm not telling! It'll ruin the pacing of the story.

Maker's breath, Seeker. Quit it with the interruptions.

Well, anyway, my brother, Bartrand was leading an expedition into the Deep Roads. The eldest de Launcet twins saw this as a golden opportunity.

What? Surprised that it wasn't all planned out Seeker?

Bartrand was a stubborn old miser, and they approached him the wrong way. He wasn't going to hire any more help. I was about to approach the dejected pair when a pickpocket bumped into Garrett.

The twins gave chase and I hurried down an alley to intercept the thief before he got to Market Street. Would've been no catching him if he had – too many crowds.

I drew Bianca – my crossbow, isn't she beautiful, Seeker? One of a kind – and lined up her sights. I pulled the trigger at just the right instant, pinning the thief to a wall. It was an excellent shot.

I retrieved the twins' coin, but not before getting in some good quips and removing the bolt in a rather painful fashion. The unfortunate rogue scrambled off, muttering something about crazy dwarves.

I gave the twins' one of my signature smirks – a Tethras family skill, passed through the-OOF!

I'm just messing with you, Seeker. Was the violence strictly necessary? I don't see how I'll be able to give you the information you want if you keep randomly hitting me.

Now then, where was I?

Ah, yes.

Smiling graciously, I handed the coinpurse back to Marian. Well, I thought, if the boy can't keep a tight hold on his coin…

After pleasantries had been exchanged I got down to business.

"We don't need another set of guards, we need investors. Bartrand won't admit it, but we're short about fifty sovereigns."

"If we had that amount of coin to throw about, we wouldn't need to join this expedition in the first place," Garrett said, crossing his arms.

"I'm sure I can think of something. If you want in, meet me at the Hanged Man later – it's just off the Bazaar. Ask for Varric."

Satisfied that I had at least piqued their curiosity, I walked away.

Besides, if they wanted those five silvers I palmed they'd have to come find me.

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Sure enough, they found me that evening.

"Very funny, Master Tethras," Garrett (who I immediately resolved to call Chuckles) said somewhat sourly.

"Sit down Chuckles, you too," I gestured towards Marian, "Have a pint on me. We can talk business over a game of Wicked Grace, what do you say?" I waved over a barmaid and drew out a pack of cards.

Marian shrugged and sat, pulling her twin into an adjacent seat.

"Can't hurt to hear him out, brother."

A reasonable sort. I decided to call her Waffles. I dealt the cards while we waited for our round.

Word for the wise, Seeker, never let me deal cards. I cheat, and I cheat well.

"Well, Waffles, as I said, we need fifty sovereigns to get the expedition on the road, but we also need to find a decent entrance into the Deep Roads," I looked at the hand I'd dealt myself, perfect, "Tell you what, I win, you raise the coin, you win, I go into debt financing this thing."

"You're on," Chuckles said "But what do you mean by a 'decent' entrance? Wouldn't any old entrance do?"

"What we need is an entrance not too far from where we're going, not plundered and not full of Darkspawn. I received some information from a Fereldan refugee in return for helping her clear up a little problem in the guard, and it seems that there's a Grey Warden in the city who could help us," I said, laying down my cards for the twins to see.

"Did she say where?" Garrett asked, almost at the same time that Marian noticed that I'd won.

"No, but we can find out."

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The Viscount's Keep is a thing to behold, Seeker, large, imposing, it looks like something right out of the Imperium mated with an Orlesian sense of fashion and a Fereldan sense of practicality. The Kirkwall guard operates out of the east wing of the main building, and the guardhouse is accessible from there via an old servant passage that runs underground. The Office of the Guard is tucked into a nice niche at the bottom of a flight of stairs leading to that passage.

I led the twins to the Guard Captain's office and knocked politely on the door. The door creaked open and a burly, armed and armored redhead peeked out.

"What is it now, Varric? I am not petitioning the Viscount to let you steal ownership of the Hanged Man. For the umpteenth time, no means no."

"I'm actually here for information, Killer."

She opened the door wider carefully looking around. "You'd better come in then."

Once we were seated she shut and locked the door before leaning against the desk.

"Aveline Vallen," she introduced herself to Waffles and Chuckles, offering them a calloused hand to shake. "What do you need, dwarf?"

Curt, as always.

"I need you to introduce us to that Grey Warden healer you mentioned before."

Aveline gave us an appraising look. "How do I know you're not working for the Templars?"

Her stance shifted and she reached for the sword buckled to her hip. That locked door started to look a lot less like it was to ward off interruptions and a lot more like it was meant to prevent escape from impending doom.

Marian and Garrett exchanged a look. I wished I knew what it meant. Was it a this dwarf has gotten us killed look or a we have a plan look?

The we have a plan theory proved to be true.

Between one blink and the next, they both disappeared. Aveline unlimbered herself from the desk and approached the seats they'd occupied, carefully waving her blade in front of herself to check if they had moved. They had.

Aveline searched the room from top to bottom and I sweated buckets.

Several tense moments passed, during which I think I aged about ten years, before the duo reappeared by the door, Garrett proudly waving the key about.

Marian, meanwhile, was clutching her nose, trying and failing to stem the flow of blood that trickled over her fingers and down her hand.

Aveline sheathed her sword. "You're not Templars," she said with conviction.

"No shit."

"I'll take you to Anders. It looks like your friend might need it."

If only I hadn't participated in Bartrand's expedition, if only I hadn't introduced them to Aveline, and through her, him, maybe things would've turned out different. Then again, maybe nothing would've changed.

Such a pity that life isn't reasonable, eh, Seeker?