Kneeling down in front of the statue of the Prophet Andraste, Templar Jacob Darius clenched his gauntleted hands together as he whispered his prayers. With reverence he renewed his holy vows, first as a devout follower of the Maker, then his vow as a Templar to protect the world from the dangers of magic. When his prayers had finished he slowly rose and made the sign of the Prophet.

Often when he would perform these prayers, he would enter a sort of meditative trance which calmed him and helped him clear his mind. Unfortunately this time his prayer did nothing to calm the turmoil within. Five days had already passed since the incident at the slum house with the death of his brothers, five days it has been and they were nowhere even closer into finding that Chevalier. For five days the murderer had been free to do whatever nefarious things were being plotted.

There was that thief who had been spotted as well to consider. His information about the thief came from another street rat who simply said it was a female elf, as if learning the culprit was an elf would make any difference. Trying to find one particular elf thief with no specific details on his or her identity was like trying to find a needle in a haystack for Alienages tended to be filled with criminal scum. When he was finished with the street rat, he had given his prisoner to the City Watch, likely they would hang him or lock him up, Darius could hardly care.

Then there was the break-in at that merchant's house, the guard who was protecting the place during the night of the robbery knew nothing for the lout had been asleep the whole time. The merchant in question had been too busy to deal with the Templar's inquiries for he had been bombarded with various problems both professional and personal. It was even to the point that some serious charges were being pressed, the kind that could see the man hanged for dealing with a number of illegal activities.

Already he was losing the City Watch's support due to the baffling increase in criminal activity. When the King called to rally the army to the south, many soldiers from Denerim had left, leaving the watch undermanned and like the craven rats they were, every petty thief and cutthroat saw their opportunity. Thus the City Watch, despite sharing his demand for justice and to see their dead avenged were simply too stretched thin. He supposed he should commend them for doing what must be done to carry out their duties; he would if his internal anger did not burn so brightly.

It always vexed him at how blind the common folk could be to the true dangers around them. How could they understand? Most folk had never seen what happens to a mage who lost control. To see the flesh and bone mutate and change into unnatural forms, to fight face to face with an abomination, to fight the dark things which waited within the Fade, seeking their chance to claim mortal flesh to sate their terrible urges.

In the end, he supposed that he should feel glad that they do not, for only brave men and women with the greatest of physical, mental and most importantly, spiritual strength could handle such a burden without succumbing to madness. Even among the ranks of the Templars there were those who had chinks in their armor, whose faith and will, were not enough, those who could fall to the terrible threat posed by the mage and the demon.

Sighing with frustration he made his way out of the local Chantry chapel within Denerim's Market District. As he passed through the double doors of the Chantry, he was greeted with the warm late morning sun, reaching into a satchel on the side of his belt; he pulled out a small blue phial of Lyrium. Removing the stopper, he placed the phial over his lips and eagerly drank the alchemical mix; it had always amused him that the thing which could empower a mage's spell is what gave him the ability to strike them down.

He had vowed that he would not rest, and that he would find this "Chevalier" bastard, and he would personally see to his execution. Already he had his best men scouring the city for information, his orders to them were to investigate and gather information on the known Orlesians within the city as well as any possible Qunari activity. Soon he thought, soon he will find this murderer.

'Welcome to the Wonders of Thedas.' said the bald, dark-skinned shop keeper, he wore robes of brown and green, most unusually was his voice which had a strange emotionless tone to it. 'We carry items crafted by the Circle, as well as a variety of antiquities' he continued. 'Is there anything you would like to see?'

Kallian Tabris looked to her companion who replied in his baritone voice 'I see what you sell'.

Currently, Kallian was clad in a set of commoner's clothing; her outfit was simple and made her easy to blend in with the crowd. Her companion on the other hand insisted on wearing his white and red robes for he had disdained the clothes she had purchased for him.

How none of the guards or anyone else in fact had given him any strange looks, or for the matter, had even noticed when he was wearing such foreign clothes was beyond her. It probably had something to do with whatever magic was within that white fur cloak of his that would cause the air shimmer around him. She had asked him during their second night about it as they sparred and his response at the time was 'Grey Wind, Ulgu, Shadow Magic'.

For the past few days the City Watch's searched for him still continued but due to the rise in crime lately, the thinly stretched City Watch simply had to move on to the more numerous of problems. It likely had something to do with all those soldiers leaving a few weeks ago. Kallian herself had wanted to get back out there, and take a few opportunities herself, but things were getting rather dangerous out there as the City Watch had been increasing their patrols and even hiring a few mercenaries. She also did not want to further worry her father, as he often would after a heist; there was also their guest she had to look after.

The shopkeeper nodded and the two began to browse his wares. She noted that Khorieus skill in speaking the common language was getting better. For the past days she had been trying to teach him their language (with a bit of help from the Elder, her father and Shianni of whom was enthusiastic about it) and he had proven to be an extraordinarily swift learner.

She had asked him how he learned so quickly and all he said was 'Human speech crude, guttural, lack Asai, no Onai'.

They looked at the merchant's selection of staves, robes, potions, a book, some pretty glowing crystals and strange stones with symbols etched upon them. The warrior then looked to the merchant and shook his head; she could see he was a bit frustrated at this. The strange shop keeper gave them a polite nod and the warrior walked away towards the front door she guessed that whatever he may have wanted to find was not there.

Leaving the shop, they emerged into the muddy streets of the Market District, the late morning sun was pleasantly warm today. It was a nice change from the cold gloom and the freezing rain which had been passing for the last three days. She noted the look of barely concealed frustration and disappointment on the warrior's face.

'At least you got that map right?' she said while looking up to the warrior who looked down to her with a grim nod.

The previous day when she had been browsing the wares at Alarith's shop, she had found a map of Ferelden which Alarith ensured her was current, while she did not have enough money to buy it at the time, she did return to her home and told Khorieus about it. He had given her the exact price in silvers and asked her to buy it for him. When she had returned and given him the map, he thanked her and spent the rest of the day studying it.

In the few days she had known Khorieus, she realized that she knew so little about him. He was very quiet, not one for small talk, he only spoke when he needed to and it was frustrating to her. She wanted to learn more about this strange foreigner, she knew early on since that first night there was something different and alien about him.

She wasn't really sure if she believed his story about coming from another world, but he was like nothing she had ever seen. He had an unnatural air of grace and nobility, yet at the same time there was something wild and feral about him. She knew that she owed him for healing her and she genuinely wanted to help him, but Khorieus had been very tight-lipped about his affairs and she did not want to do anything to offend him.

The two of them quietly made their way back to the Alienage, although he did not carry his axe with him, she knew he concealed his knife underneath one of his sleeves and she had seen how deadly he could be with that alone. Anyone who could kill a Mabari with a knife quite easily, not even with a proper dagger was someone she would avoid starting an unnecessary fight with.

As they traveled through the Market District, she began sniffing the air for she had picked up the delectable smell of some of the freshly baked pies being sold by one of the stalls. Moving towards the stall, she looked at the sign and it was in some fancy Orlesian sounding name. The stall owner was a portly man in a white tunic and apron with a bald head and beardless face which made him looked a bit like an oversized baby. The stall owner continued hawking towards the crowd in an Orlesian accent and inviting them to try his meat pies.

When she arrived at the stall she looked at what was available, set in neatly organized rows, there were small pieces of flat wood at the front of each row with a delicately red-painted set of words in Orlesian. She had no idea what they were but the one which seemed the most expensive was a "Canard" which she saw was outrageously worth six silvers. She sighed and remembered that she had been gambling with a few friends the previous day, it had left her almost penniless.

The stall owner gave her a brief, annoyed looked and gestured with his hands to shoo away before he went back to hawking his wares. Well the rest of the pies were too expensive for her anyway, most of them were of a price range of at least two to four silvers and the cheapest being silver and fifty bits. She was sure that she could find some cheaper ones elsewhere and hope she did not get the runs. Looking back to Khorieus, she was about to tell him that they should go but she then she saw him speaking to the stall owner in Orlesian while pointing at a number of meat pies, each one was twice the size of Kallian's fist.

Khorieus then reached into his coin pouch and produced a whole sovereign, the stall owner looked surprised and he bit the coin first to see if it was real. The human looked surprised when it did not break and he suddenly smiled and began wrapping several pies with a papery foil.

'Merci! Merci! My lord!' said the stall owner cheerily as he wrapped the pies.

Kallian gave the warrior a surprised look; for he had purchased ten pies from the stall. Khorieus then produced a cloth sack she realized was one of the spare ones she would use for heists. The stall owner began to gingerly place the pies into the sack and handed the warrior his change. When the transaction was complete he thanked the warrior and her as well, she noted the stall owner's attitude towards her had suddenly become friendlier.

Khorieus looked to Kallian and he nodded 'To your home' was all he said as he reached into the sack and handed her one of the pies.

Reaching for it, she felt the heat from the pie through the wrapping and she gave the pie a long reverent look, she thanked the strange warrior and bit in, savoring its flaky buttery goodness as well as the savory taste of the saucy meat inside. It was perhaps the best thing she ever had.

Looking to Kallian as she bit into the pie and began to softly moan in appreciation for its taste, Khorieus thought that at the least she was enjoying the food. He was grateful that she had given him a safe place to rest and recover his strength ever since he had arrived in this world. Buying her a meal was the least he could do as thanks, looking to one of the pies though he was not sure if he was going to enjoy what was going to come next.

In his travels across the Old World, his overall opinion of human culinary skills was that it was as crude as their culture. He had found most human foods to either overcompensate with too much ingredients that the taste was overpowering or too little and bland. There was no balance of taste to it, none of the simplicity that the Asur could make; there was also the worry that the ingredients were improperly stored.

Praying to Isha that he does not come down with some sort of intestinal malady, Khorieus unwrapped one pie and bit into it, his opinion on human cuisine was unchanged. He found the taste to be an overpowering mix of salty and savory, he chewed and swallowed before continuing to eat it in silence. Although he had grown used to eating human food, he had found that at least this pie was far from the worst, better than those "Mystery Meat" ones sold in the Empire which he was rather sure was made from rats, dogs and cats and were major causes of dysentery among the humans.

Khorieus was displeased, but had somewhat expected that the magic store did not have what he sought, he himself had no idea how he would even find some sort of arcane device which would allow him to traverse through different planes of reality. Although he had the map, and now had a general idea that he should keep going west to find Lake Calenhad, he knew not how long the path would take. For all he knew it could take weeks, months even, and he had no idea what he might encounter in the wilds. He would have to stock up on supplies and gather more information before leaving.

As they made their way past the gatehouse which would lead them to the bridge and over the river back to the Alienage, Khorieus used the power of his cloak to conceal himself. He had the feeling that he and Kallian were being watched; he looked back without stopping and narrowed his eyes. A grim look came upon his face, they were…

Bernard Marquand had been waiting by the pie seller's stall, he became confident that the Orlesian vendor who happened to be new to the city was not the man they were looking for. He would have to report to the Templar that the stall owner was a dead-end.

Then he saw that pretty elf girl arrive, he spent a few moments just looking at her from the side, with her lovely pale skin and black hair. Impure thoughts briefly coursed through his mind. In his old life, he would have thought nothing about ravishing beauties like her. No, he thought he was a married man with a wife and a son waiting for him in Amaranthine, he was a reformed and pious man now. He had found the forgiveness and redemption of the Prophet and the Maker and he had dedicated his life to protecting people now.

He had shaken his head and closed his eyes, he whispered a mantra-like prayer to the Prophet and the Maker and he resolved that needed to absolve himself later. When he had opened his eyes he suddenly saw that strange, tall, and pale mage looking fellow had appeared by the stall. He was dressed in robes of white and red, and he wore a pristine white fur cloak. He could have sworn the mage was not there a second ago, but it looked to the shop keeper as if he were dealing with just another customer.

He heard the mage talk to the stall owner and make his transaction; Bernard noted that the mage had a foreign accent, but not Orlesian. There was something strange about this mage, something that just did not seem right. It was not just the lack of a staff, but also something… off about him. The former brigand had decided to investigate and he began to trail the two, he saw them make their way to the Alienage and when he simply blinked his eyes, the mage was gone.

Not quite sure of what he saw, he was able to catch a glimpse of the stranger's eyes which were icy blue. He then remembered the report from the watch and one of the surviving men had also mentioned something about the Chevalier having icy blue eyes which seemed to pierce into a man's soul. Could it be? He thought; was that the Chevalier they were hunting? The mage-looking fellow certainly fit the bill with the height and broadness, was he in disguise then?

He remembered a story from another Templar about how he had encountered a Dalish mage who wore a full suite of plate armor and could easily fight with both sword and spell. The mage and the Templar were fighting against a group of Tevinter Blood Mages and after the battle was won, the Templar was forced to leave the Dalish apostate alone for he had been highly outnumbered by many Dalish warriors.

Bernard wondered if it was possible that this stranger could be one of these armored mages, might he also be a Maleficar as well? He then decided that he will follow and watch these two, he will have to be careful for he had a feeling the stranger would be on to him. Bernard Marquand had feeling that this stranger may have something to do with the culprit.

'Breathe, shoot' came the voice of Khorieus once more.

Kallian who was now wearing her leather armor again, took a deep breath and brought up her cheap elm short bow. Her right arm which held the bow had perfectly lined up as she reached for an arrow in the quiver which was strapped to her back. Swiftly pulling an arrow out, she placed the feathered end to the string and pulled it back, she exhaled and let the shaft loose. She watched as the arrow flew towards a scarecrow like figure made from sticks, and sacks filled with hay, each being tied together with rope, it was already filled with many arrows.

The arrow struck against the chest of the scarecrow and she grinned. Looking to Khorieus who nodded with a stern look, she noted that he had been more tense ever since they arrived back at the Alienage, she had asked him about it but he remained as tight-lipped as ever. They were located in the same area where they would spar. For days now, in exchange for the language lessons he had been giving lessons with blade and bow. Already Kallian saw the noticeable improvement in her own talents with archery and dual-weapon fighting.

'All right, my turn' came the eager voice of her cousin Shianni who had joined them in their archery sessions.

The Alienage had an unofficial militia of sorts the Elder had set up, every now and then when their neighbors could, they would gather and perform target practice on makeshift scarecrows. Kallian herself though had chosen to focus on the blade skills her mother had taught her.

Shianni certainly had more practice than Kallian with archery, her cousin raised up her bow and drew the string, with an exhale of air she fired and her arrow struck the scarecrow in the head. Her cousin looked to them and grinned, Kallian knew though that her cousin was really looking at Khorieus.

During their first training session Shianni had feigned needing help with her form and had asked the warrior to help her. Kallian had given them a look of amusement and probably more than a hint of envy when Khorieus had placed his arms over her cousin's. He had gently guided Shianni's hands with his own while offering words of advice and encouragement and when she had loosed the arrow it struck the scarecrow over where a man's heart would be.

'Fine shot' Khorieus said 'now for blades'.

Kallian nodded and she handed her bow and quiver to Shianni, she would take the weapons to the Elder's house for storage.

'See you later cousin' Kallian said, Shianni then gave her a friendly smile and grin to Khorieus who politely nodded to her cousin. Removing her daggers from their sheaths, Kallian began taking a few practice swipes of her weapons; she then looked to the warrior and nodded.

This was the part she enjoyed, the part where she would really get that rush of adrenaline. Khorieus had offered some blades lessons as well to Shianni but she had declined saying that she would rather stick with the bow. Her other cousin Soris though had also taken part in at least three sessions, he had joined at Kallian's "insistence" although he ended up with more than a few bruises, he did prove to have some skill with a sword and shield. He had not been able to join in for today as he claimed he had work to do.

'Begin' Khorieus said.

Kallian dashed towards him with daggers held in a reverse grip, she swung her right blade towards his face and switched the direction of her left one to face upwards, she then thrust her left blade forwards. The warrior leaned back in time to avoid her right dagger, its tip only an inch away from cutting his chin, he slapped her left hand dagger away with his right hand, and she leapt back and rolled upon the muddy ground before stopping with her in a kneeling position.

Seeing him charge towards her now wielding a pair of iron daggers as well, she barely managed to parry a twin thrust of his blade with a back-handed wave of her arms. Sparks showered and she thrust her left foot up to his groin, Khorieus had anticipated this and brought forth his own right leg to block her kick. He then swiftly thrust his forehead towards her and she was forced to roll to her left to avoid the head-butt.

Breathing heavily, Kallian grinned and saw that Khorieus was now on a feigned defense. Not falling for the trap, she held back and tried to circle him, the warrior then began to circle as well in the opposite direction. A tense moment of silence passed and she saw a slight curl on the side of the warrior's mouth before he relaxed his stance.

'You improve' he said with a hint of approval 'you learn fast, soon you ready for basics of Ceylsenarha'

'What is that?' asked Kallian curiously while relaxing her own as well.

'Old blade style' Khorieus replied 'from Shadow Warriors, Nagarthye'

'Nagarthye?' She asked curiously 'is that part of Ulthuan?'

'Yes' he said grimly 'also named Shadow Lands'

The name sent a chill up Kallian's spine, the way he said it made it sound unnerving. She briefly thought of some bleak twisted land, covered in darkness with trees which resembled more like spikes, and things which waited for the unwary in the shadows. Not exactly the nicest of places to settle down most likely.

There were many things she wanted ask him about his homeland. He said that he would speak of it, but his knowledge of her language would prevent him from doing it any justice. He asked that she wait until his ability to speak her language was more complete.

There was something about him which made her think about the stories of Arlathan. Her mother had told her a few stories about it, how their people were once immortal and living in homes grander than the current kings of men, that each of their people once had great mastery over magic. How it was the humans who looked upon their kind with envy and made war upon her people. Most of the stories she knew though were only old tales and legends, likely with many parts made up to fill the gaps.

'We resume?' asked Khorieus, breaking her train of thought.

'Yes, lets' replied Kallian eagerly.

Sitting upon a chair by a writing desk, Jacob Darius was currently located in his office at the Templar chapter house in Denerim. He held in his hands the report of Bernard Marquand. It was written on a small strip of paper, its letters were in the language of Ander, to which the Templar understood fluently. It said:

No unusual activity with A.G.

Investigating a possible lead,

Will contact later

- B.M.

Another dead-end, thought the Templar with frustration mounting. He was wondering, who it could have been to catch Marquand's attention? Could it be the Chevalier or the thief? Only time would tell and he had confidence in Marquand's skill. Hearing a knock on the door he called for the person to come in. When the door opened he heard the heavy clatter of steel plates, looking up he saw the two people before him.

One was a fellow Templar, a tall and strong woman of noble descent, with golden hair which was tied into a bun and eyes of blue he knew as Ser Elena Magdalene. Next to her was a young pretty looking woman with dark skin and brown unkempt hair with green eyes, Darius quickly noted the young woman's blue robes and staff, a mage he thought with a bit of disdain.

Elena was well-known to him for the two of them had hunted Maleficars and Apostates together for twenty years, although he had great respect for her skill and being able to get results when it came to hunting Maleficars and Apostates, he did not approve of her more recent methods in doing so. Elena's style were unorthodox as she would often seek to acquire the services of mages and as well as those non-believers such as dwarves or the Dalish. There were also some of the rumors going about that she cavorted with some of these non-human pagans, but no one has been able to prove it true.

The mage on the other hand he guessed was a Olivia Wells, a mage who had been transferred into his company after his previous one, Marissa Theo had not stopped babbling insanities about the some place called The Inevitable City. Her quarters were found four days ago to be scrawled with strange symbols and writings written in her own blood, she babbled about one called the Everchosen over and over. Darius himself had ended her misery and ordered Marissa's body and quarters to be burned.

This new mage, Olivia Wells was supposedly something of a prodigy according to the papers which were sent to him earlier that day. A staunch member of the Loyalists, skilled in the colleges of the Arcane, Creation and Spirit, the last being especially useful in hunting Maleficars and Apostates. What worried him though, was that according to the mage's papers, this was to be her first assignment in assisting the Templars. The last thing Darius needed was an unproven child.

Rising up from his seat, he gave Elena and the Mage a formal bow and greeted 'Maker's Blessing to you'

'And to you too as well old friend' replied Elena in a friendly tone, she gave him a slight bow before gesture towards the mage in introduction 'And this is Olivia Wells'

'A pleasure Ser' the mage said with a polite curtsy.

Darius greeted her back as well, trying to conceal his disdain. With the formalities ended the Templar wanted to get down to business. With him losing the support of the City Watch, he had requisitioned for aid amongst his fellow Templars, he explained to them the situation with the deaths of Ser Finnick and his party, as well as the possibility of the culprit being an Orlesian Reaver who may or may not be masquerading as a Chevalier.

Elena of course was quick to be on board for this assignment, for she and Finnick were good friends and like Darius, she too sought to avenge their fallen brother. The mage girl took it well and he was surprised at her eagerness to help him catch this had asked her why and she spoke with determination 'Denerim was where I was born, I don't think I would be able to rest well if some Blood Mage were on the loose, preying on innocent people'.

Darius was glad that at the least he would have the full cooperation of all of them. Already he felt that with extra aid, he would be able to catch this Chevalier sooner.

Bernard Marquand knelt upon the rooftop of one of the Alienage houses; it gave him a good view of the building the robed stranger had been coming in and out of. Earlier he saw the stranger leave with the black-haired elf woman he had seen earlier, he then saw him come back with the same elf woman but also with another one with red hair. He later saw an older elf male enter the home as well.

He wondered, what was going? Was this stranger a member of their family? A friend? Was he the culprit they were looking for? If so were these elves willingly harboring him? Or could they have been puppets? Were he in a human community it would have been easier to bribe or threaten the information of the locals, but it was more difficult with Alienages, for they were usually (but not always) more tight-knit and protective of their kin.

Through the roof tops, he had followed them to a clearing behind the house and he saw the stranger giving the black and red-haired females archery lessons. He was able to hear their names, the black-haired beauty was named Kallian, and the red-haired one of whom he also found rather attractive was named Shianni.

The white-robed stranger had pulled down the animal headed hood of his cloak to reveal a pale skinned white-haired creature, he heard the one Shianni call him Khorieus. During the archery session, the one called Kallian was no great archer, but the other one Shianni had proven much better. The red-haired one then left carrying their bows and quivers, he wanted to follow her and see where the weapons were being taken, but his greater interest had been with the one they called Khorieus.

He watched as the one called Khorieus and the maiden Kallian had both pulled out a pair of daggers and sparred with their blades. He was impressed by the elf woman's skill for she had been fast and skilled, as if she were a natural with a blade. The stranger though he saw was far more skilled, he was stronger and faster as well and it was clear to Bernard's trained eyes that the stranger was holding back.

When the two had finished, he saw the red-haired female return to them. They spoke for a little while before returning to the house. While he had watched the house, he used the time to write his report regarding the stall owner and his new lead. He needed to send his report to the Templar but at the same time he needed to watch the house.

It was fortunate that he saw an elf beggar wandering the streets, Bernard had then descended from the rooftops and he went to the beggar. He offered to pay him two silvers to deliver the message along with his seal proving his association with the Templar Order, he would pay the beggar three more silvers if he returned to this spot with the seal. When the beggar left, he continued to watch the house for an hour. The beggar eventually returned and after being given back his seal and a note from Templar Darius, acknowledging that he received the letter, Bernard had held up his end of the bargain and paid the beggar.

The sun had already set and the moon had risen and the only ones he had seen leave were the red-haired one and the older elf. He wondered if perhaps there was some sort of underground tunnel or perhaps an entrance to the sewers. He cursed and wondered at the possibility.

Already he began to grow tired from his watch; he had not been prepared for a stake out like this. For the entire time he had watched and waited under the warm sun which grew hotter and now it had grown so very cold, he had already missed two meals today thus leaving him hungry, thirsty and tired. He quietly cursed himself for getting too used to "soft living" in this city, years earlier when he had still been an outlaw, he was quite used to going for days without food. He remembered that he also needed to report back in, again he cursed himself for not coming prepared, he was unsure of what course of action to take.

As he thought about his predicament, he noticed the door to the house open; he looked down to see it was the stranger. His eyes widened in surprise for he saw the stranger was now clad in armor of silverite, with a white cloak over him the Chevalier! he thought with alarm

He had spotted the culprit, the one they were searching for. He knew that he needed to get word to Templar Darius and gather the other Templars so they may bring this murderer to justice. He looked down to see the stranger walk towards the Vhenadahl tree, the stranger stopped to look up at the tree before he began to circle around it. He saw the stranger disappear behind the tree and then… nothing. Bernard Marquand grew alarmed, where did the stranger go?

He looked to the sides of the tree and he muttered a profanity, with the darkness of the night it had already become hard to see far away in the dark. He rose up and moved towards his right, he wanted to get a look around to see if he was just standing behind, he made his way across the roof tops to the next series of houses. He alternated between looking to the roof top and to the tree, when he was finally able to see the area where the stranger had disappeared he found nothing.

Magic! He thought, that's the only possible way the stranger had escaped. But how? Could he have cast some sort of spell of teleportation? Or a spell of invisibility? His thoughts began to race and then it hit him. Of course, he should question one of the two women or the older man. Looking down he saw several elves were already returning to their homes from the daily labors. He knew that he would need to report back now and gather the Templars. Descending from the roof tops and sticking to the shadows, he quietly made his way back to the chapter house.

Watching from the shadows, as the enchantments of Ulgu within his cloak hid him from mortal sight, Khorieus saw the quiet human leave the Alienage. He had known all day that this one was watching and observing both Kallian and he. He did not know who this human was or what he wanted, but whatever was the case, the High Elf swore to Kurnous that he would find out what the human knew, even if it meant tearing the information out one bloody cut at a time.

The man moved with a surprising degree of speed and stealth, while certainly no Autarii, he had to admit this one was skilled, for a human. Following the human through the streets and darkened alleyways, Khorieus already had his bow ready, an arrow had already been set by the bowstring and arcane rime began to appear over the arrow-head. When the man had led him to an alleyway with no others beings in sight, Khorieus whispered a prayer to Kurnous. Raising his Ellyrian crafted bow he drew the string and shouted in their language, 'Hey!' before firing the arrow.

The human turned to look at Khorieus, the Asur saw the man's surprised look as he saw the ice coated projectile fly towards him. His surprise was soon followed by a shriek of pain as the arrow struck the man through his right thigh causing him to fall to the muddy ground. The arrow should have struck the bones and broken them, already the enchantment upon it had already caused the man's wound to blacken with frostbite. Swiftly moving towards the downed man, the human was able to look up to the Chracian in time to get an Ithilmar boot to the face.

'What do you mean he is not here?' Kallian asked her father with alarm.

The sparring sessions between her and Khorieus had been very tiring and strenuous. She had sat down upon her bed to rest while feeling sore from the session, the warrior had then offered to relieve the pain and he had massaged her aching muscles. The next thing she knew, she was smelling her father's cooking and was quickly surprised to not find the warrior around.

'He was not here when I came in' her father said 'was he not with you all day?'

'He was, but…' said Kallian as she looked around their home, she saw Khorieus armor, cloak, axe and bow were gone, but she saw that he had left his robes folded neatly upon one of the chairs by the dining table. She had also seen that his pack was still propped near the hearth by the wall and she saw the map was still rolled up on the table near the keg. Perhaps he had just gone out for a stroll? But why would he bring his weapons and armor with him?

'I am sure he will return' her father said before going back to the cooking pot. Kallian's father had seemed to be taking their guests stay quite well, it was not as if Khorieus had been making himself a burden, the warrior surprisingly had helped them do the laundry as well as keep the house tidy. She had also seen the warrior give coins to her father as if he were paying rent.

She wondered if she should talk with her cousin Shianni, if she had seen Khorieus. Maybe he had gone to her home!? She wondered with more than a bit of alarm. She had seen the way her cousin was around him, yet Kallian was not sure what Khorieus thought about them, he often seemed to either be looking dour, frustrated, aloof or expressionless and only thrice she had seen him with the barest hint of a smile. Kallian found herself unsure on what to think on the matter

'oh sod it' she said with resignation and decided that she should pay Shianni a visit.

Groaning in pain, Bernard Marquand wearily opened his eyes and found only darkness. He felt so hungry, thirsty and tired at the same time he had felt the pain. He tasted copper and something warm in his mouth, he suddenly realized that it was blood. Licking his tongue around the inside of his mouth, he found two of his front teeth were now loose. Trying to move around, he found that he could not move his arms and legs and he realized that he was tied to a chair.

Looking around the dark room, her began to breathe faster, he began sniffing the air and he found it to be musty, and stale. He had a feeling that he was underground somewhere, but then he caught something strange, he thought he could smell spices and herbs. As he tried to identify the smell, he heard a faint whisper and suddenly he saw the glow of orange lights, the lights appeared in strange elegant symbols he had never seen before, it looked as if some were even changing shape before his very eyes.

The Chevalier! he realized, cursing himself for a fool for getting himself captured by a Maleficar, and he cursed this murderous fiend's black heart. He heard a faint whisper once more and the orange lights turned white and burst into ghostly flames. He then saw that the ghostly pale skinned figure of the Chevalier, he was clad in a white fur cloak and a suit of silverite plate armor which was of a design he had never seen before, clearly not Orlesian. It looked as if it were both beautiful and serviceable at the same time.

The Stranger was wearing a strange pointy helmet and he could see his cold icy blue eyes.

'You will get nothing from me, Maleficar' hissed Bernard through gritted teeth as he looked the stranger in the eye

The Stranger's expression was emotionless like that of a Tranquil, he then asked in a curious tone 'Why you watch me?'

'You know why, murderer!' replied Bernard with hostility

'You guardsman?' asked the Stranger icily.

'You will get nothing from me!' Bernard repeated

The Stranger coldly glared at him, there was something unnerving about the look in the Stranger's eyes. In his own lifetime, Bernard Marquand has fought Blood Mages, Apostates, Qunari, Crows, Demons, Abominations, the Hungering Dead and men who engaged in all sorts of depravities. But the threatening look in this Stranger's eyes chilled him to his very soul, he realized that there was something different, almost otherworldly about him.

The Stranger then raised his axe to his side and it ignited a torch. He then whispered something in a lilting tongue and the axe's fires died away, leaving only the light of the torch. Through the torchlight, Bernard could see that he was in a small cellar, similar to the one where the Maleficar and the Templars were found dead. Abandoned buildings like this were common in the more lawless areas of Denerim where people often got robbed or murdered in the streets.

The Stranger then set his axe by one of the dark corners where Bernard thought he could see a bow and a quiver. The Stranger then removed his fur cloak and he neatly folded it next to the weapons, he then went back to Bernard.

'I give warning' he said in a low and threatening voice 'Tell me why you follow, and no pain for you, and you live. Do not tell, and I force you, with pain you never know'

'Sod off you monster!' cursed Marquand and he spat bloody phlegm on the Stranger's face.

The Stranger's expression did not change, he wiped the blood away and he reached for something on the side of his belt. He then drew an elegant curved knife of a design he had never seen before, it looked to be made from White Steel. The warrior then looked Bernard in the eye and spoke.

'In my homeland, there is place called Nagarthye. Also named Shadow Lands, is home to Warriors of Shadows. They fight eternal war against Druchii' Bernard noted the hatefulness in the Stranger's tone at the last word.

'They learn many from war with Druchii. Hate, Vengeance, Sacrifice, Murder, Pain, many things. I live with Warriors of Shadow, learn much from them, now you learn…'

Hearing a gentle series of knocks on the front door, Kallian awoke from her sleep. Her home was dimly lighted by a few melted wax candles and the embers from the heart. All night she had waited for Khorieus by the dining table must have dozed off. She had asked her cousin Shianni if she had seen the warrior and found that her cousin did not see him at all.

Trying to shake away her grogginess, she went to the door, she looked back to the bedroom and cold hear the soft snores of her father. When she opened the door she saw it was Khorieus, the warrior wore the armor she had thought was Silverite, but he had called Ithilmar.

'Where were you!?' whispered Kallian while trying to be quiet and not disturb her father's sleep 'Do you know how worried I was!?'

Khorieus gave her a bow and said 'I apologize, I desire no problem for you'

With a soft grunt, Kallian stepped aside and allowed him in. She noted that he was carrying one of her spare sacks again, and it was filled.

'Did you steal something?' she asked with a mix of alarm and curiosity

'No' said the warrior 'I earn, you have, as gift. Gratitude for letting me stay'

The warrior then placed the sack on the dining table, he began taking out several items which were partially illuminated by the candles. She saw the first was a full set of dark grey studded leather armor; it was made of a much higher quality material than her own armor. Then there was a pair of bright red daggers which softly glowed in the dark, then there was a white crossbow and a quiver of bolts. There was also a belt, two rings and an amulet, each one was quite beautiful in their own ways.

Her eyes widened at these "gifts" for each was something she had only seen in the wares of merchants but never had the money to afford it. Shaking away her astonishment, she looked to Khorieus 'Are you sure you did not steal these?'

'I am Highborn of Ulthuan' replied Khorieus 'Thievery not honorable, I earn'

'Were you followed?' she asked, choosing to ignore the jab at her profession.

'No' he said 'I move swift and quiet'. Kallian gave him a long hard look, she really could not tell with him, it was like reading the expression of a rock.

'Well fine then, thank you' sighed Kallian with resignation. She saw Khorieus setting his cloak down in front of the hearth again and placing his weapons near it, as the warrior began to remove his armor, Kallian could not help but feel a bit worried.

Sister Siobhan of the Denerim Chantry grunted as she worked the pulley of the well. She pulled with all of her might to get the bucket of water up, when it finally reached the top she sighed with relief as sweat began to appear upon her brow. Deciding to take a sip before bringing the water inside the chapel so they could begin mopping, she lifted the rim of the bucket to her lips.

She felt the refreshingly cool water touch her lips and flow into her mouth, there was a strange taste though, it was metallic and coppery. She began to smell the water and the realization hit her, blood, the well tasted of blood!

'Maker Breath' muttered Templar Darius as he pulled over the soggy blanket which covered the body. It revealed the eyeless face of Bernard Marquand, to his horror he even saw that Bernard's tongue was cut out. By the Maker, what was Darius going to tell Marquand's wife? Anger burned within him, he knew it was the Chevalier, it had to be. The Market District's Watch Leader, a Sergeant Kylon believed it was the work of some of the local criminals. He mentioned how the well in front of the chapel was sometimes used to dispose of bodies.

He saw that horrible look on the corpse's face, the Templar deduced that Bernard died in a great deal of pain, likely he had died screaming as well. He knew Bernard well and it just seemed impossible, the two men had fought alongside each other for many years and he knew the man was made of stern stuff. Pulling down more of the blanket, he saw that Bernard was killed with his throat slit, as he looked more upon the body he found the man was also robbed of his dignity.

His enchanted leather armor and weapons were gone, he was clad only in his undergarments, he saw several cuts bruises and burns across his arms, and torso. He saw that Bernard's finger's were horribly bent and mutilated and as he looked further down, he saw the man's legs were blackened with frostbite. Most horribly was that his stomach was cut open and several of his entrails were exposed. He even saw that some of the man's organs were mutilated as well.

Quickly covering the body and feeling his bile rise, he wanted to vomit like the noble born fops which had recently joined the Market's Watch. Taking a deep breath and trying to clear his head, he saw Elena and the Mage approaching him.

'It's Bernard isn't it?' asked Elena with a mix of sadness and anger. She too had considered a Bernard a comrade, it was she who helped reform the former outlaw. Elena had even attended Bernard's wedding and had become good friends with his wife.

'I am sorry to hear what happened sir' the Mage girl said with sympathy 'I hear he was a good man, I am sure he is with the Maker now'

'He was' said Darius with a hard look, his gauntleted fists clenched tightly. That is now five members of Andraste's holy followers who were now dead. All slain by that Chevalier, he wanted to shout and to scream to the Maker, but he held it in. With grim determination his resolve in finding this bastard increased.

Lying down upon his white fur cloak, Khorieus kept to his own silent council of what he had learned. It seemed that the human he had "questioned" was an associate of some religious order, much like those brutish Witch Hunters of the Empire. Also, he had learned that the knights he had killed on the first night he arrived in this world were members of these so-called Templars. They thought him to be some sort of sorcerer, a "Maleficar" as the man insisted on calling him.

It did not surprise the Chracian that the humans of this world could be just as fanatical as the ones in his. He really would have let the human live with only minor maiming had he not slipped his knowledge of the High Elf's association with Kallian and her family, as well as the knowledge that Khorieus had been residing within their home. The human knew too much and he needed to be blinded and silenced for the High Elf knew not what sorcery the people of this world were capable of, as such he needed to be thorough.

He knew that he would need to leave this city soon and head for Lake Calenhad and find those Mages. But if what he had learned from the human was true, then there would be more of these Templars there at the Mage Tower. One bridge at a time he thought to himself. He needed to leave as soon as possible, his presence would only endanger Kallian and her family. The road of the Asur was always one fraught with peril; he thought to himself.