Bann Florek stood before the collected Banns, the nervous, fidgeting nobles. They were a collection of the most discontent, most dissatisfied nobles Ferelden had to offer. Quite a few were nobles under the command of Highever and Amaranthine. A few were from the far western end of the country, near Orlais. There was even a scattered few from the central Bannorn.

All had one thing in common: they hated the Grey Wardens.

Most had lost wealth, land and status to the Wardens' victory over Loghain. Some had lost it to the Darkspawn, to what they saw as the Wardens' inability to act soon enough. Those that had thrown their lot in with the late Arl Howe were now unwelcome in the courts of Ferelden and could be considered to have forfeited their titles with Howe's death.

Collectively, they hated Highever and Amaranthine.

Collectively, they hated the King.

Collectively, they were all his to control.

"My Lords and Ladies," said Florek, stepping down from his throne. "You are gathered here for one common purpose. You all share a common hatred. We all share a common enemy."

"'We'?" demanded Bann Ceorlic. "I don't recall you losing anything during the Civil War, Florek!"

There was a brief murmur in the crowd of nobles. It was true, Florek had been a minor noble then – not even given the privilege of a vote in the Landsmeet – and was a nobody now. His parents had been Orlesians, appointed to their stations by the Usurper, only allowed to stay due to their support of Maric in the war.

He wasn't the most popular noble in the land, not by far. In fact, most of his peers didn't bother to acknowledge him as a noble. His Bannorn was small, barely a few acres in the central Bannorn, and his wealth was meager.

But he was very well-versed in politics. He knew that his voice in the Landsmeet would go unheard, and he knew that his sphere of influence wouldn't extend past his nose. But he was too smart for them.

He was too smart to try to overthrow Highever, not when the Couslands were at their zenith, and he was too smart to send his men south to Ostagar. He was left in a very strong position after the war, and few realized it.

He'd cut deals with a number of local bandits to leave his lands alone, to focus their attacks on other Banns. He'd quietly "acquired" land and men from those Banns who'd lost it all during the war. He was about to expand even further.

"You are correct, Ceorlic," he said, putting on his best apologetic frown. "But if I might point out I never was in any position to lose anything. I did not support a traitor. I did not hamper the defeat of the Blight."

Ceorlic frowned, sat down. He realized the truth of what was said. Ceorlic had lost a massive amount of power after that fateful Landsmeet two years ago. Since then, much of what he commanded was decaying, and he was barely holding onto his territory.

Florek cleared his throat, tried to continue.

"Lords and Ladies," he said. "These… Grey Wardens have ruined us. Whether or not we supported them in the war, they have ruined us. The King is a bastard, chosen as a last resort. The Queen controls this country, and she is a shrewd leader indeed."

"The Queen commanded when Cailan was King," said Bann Karstein. Florek nodded.

"Indeed she did," said Florek. "She is a smart, powerful woman. She openly disowned the Wardens and then she marries one. Shrewd indeed."

That created another ripple of interest. Few had fully comprehended the strength and political know-how the Queen possessed until that moment. She had sided with her father yet still come out on top. The King was as much a king as Florek himself. He did nothing to govern this country. Nay, he was on the throne because he was a Warden.

"Is it not strange that the Wardens are in command of this nation? Is it not strange that they command the total love and admiration of all without a single doubt?"

"The Wardens saved this country," said another Bann.

"Indeed they did, but does that mean we owe them our livelihoods? Our loyalty? The Wardens remain in the shadows for centuries, emerging to defeat the 'Blight' and slinking away just as soon. But not this once. Not now."

He paced across the front of the room, the nobles' eyes following him intently.

"The King is a Warden. The Arl of Amaranthine is a Warden. And his brother is Teyrn of Highever, second to the King – ah! I meant Queen."

The nobles glanced left and right. They all agreed. They needed little prodding.

"Lords and Ladies," said Florek. "Whether or not we like it, whether or not we permit it, the Warden Commander controls this nation!"

"The Teyrnir of Gwaren lies open!" declared a noble.

"Because they've yet to find a Warden to sit on its throne!" Florek shot back. "How long will it take? Who would argue if this Warden Commander were to be the Teyrn of Gwaren? No one! The Wardens would have their grip on this country and we – good Fereldans – would no longer have a place in this world."

"You sound like Loghain did," said Ceorlic. "Right before he died. You sound just like a madman."

"You threw your lot in with that 'madman'," said Florek. "You evidently thought he had a chance at victory. You evidently thought he was worth supporting. Or did you lie then, Ceorlic? Did you fail at even that?"

Ceorlic glanced around the wide hall, unable to find a noble willing to meet his gaze. Florek grinned to himself.

"Loghain had lost before he'd even begun," said Florek. "He couldn't face the Blight, nor could he face the Warden. When it came to his end, he couldn't even face the Maker."

The hall stayed quiet. Loghain was a hero in life, and there were few willing enough to insult the man after his death. That Florek would said much of his bravado.

"The Warden is the key. He is the real power, the strength of the bankrupt Theirin line. Alistair is not his father – he is not even Cailan. He is little more than the Warden's lapdog, eagerly gathering up whatever morsels of fame and victory the Warden can bring to him, perfectly content basking in the Queen's shadow."

Florek stopped pacing, turned on his heel. He crossed his arms, staring out over the collected nobles, smiling as though he'd already won. He oozed confidence.

"King Alistair need not break; there is not enough left to break. But the Warden… Yes, he will break."

"What are you proposing?" asked a very irate Bann in the far back, looking as though he might walk out.

Florek sighed. "Two years ago not a soul in this world would touch you, none dare stand against you. Now, just the mention of the Warden's name sends chills down your spines, reminds you that your lives aren't even your own. You live at his whim. You have your lands at his fancy."

Florek cleared his throat, stood tall to make himself seem larger, larger than life even.

"Pledge your loyalty to me. Make me your Teyrn, your King. And I will kill the Warden."

There was silence.

And then someone laughed.

Ceorlic stood, clapping and laughing.

"I cannot believe I took time out of my week for this," he said. "Do you know how many men have said these very words? Do you know how many have died for even trying? You cannot kill the Warden! There is no man that can."

"Oh, but I shall," said Florek. "I shall kill him."

Ceorlic narrowed his eyes.

"You are mad. Do you really think yourself the only man on this planet to have thought the same? Do you really think that you can kill what an entire army could not?"

Florek frowned. "I am the only one that can."

And he raised his hand before Ceorlic could speak. He silenced all questions, he silenced all dissent. He silenced Bann Ceorlic.

With a flick of Florek's wrist, Bann Ceorlic convulsed, muscles ripping themselves from their bones, body folding into itself. He screamed, an ear-splitting unbelievable sound that cowed each and every noble.

And then, with added flourish, Florek opened his hand, spattering the closest nobles with blood. What was left of Ceorlic fell to the ground in a large heap.

"I will kill this Grey Warden," said Florek. "I can. But you do not simply approach the Warden and try to defeat him. That is folly. You start from the bottom and work your way up."

No one spoke. The Banns were in varying states of shock – some unable to believe that he was a blood mage, some unable to believe Ceorlic was dead, and the rest that for once the dreaded Warden might not be invincible after all. Florek grinned as widely as he could.

"We kill his friends. Then we kill the Warden. When he is alone, when he is incensed by their deaths, when he hungers for vengeance, then we strike. Then we kill him."

"You want to war with the Warden?" asked a Bann. "You want to make an enemy of the Grey Wardens?"

"Yes! And I ask that you all stand beside me."

"How?"

And then a dark figure stepped from the shadows, cloaked and hooded.

"For that," said Florek, stepping aside so that the newcomer could take center stage. "You need the very best."

"And the most expensive," added the figure, his accent clearly marking him as an Antivan.

"An Antivan Crow?" someone asked. "That's been tried before. Several times before."

"No," said Florek. "The assassin is for his companions. When they are dead he will come to me. And then I will kill him."

"And why gather us here?" asked another Bann. "If you can kill him so handily, then why do you need us?"

"Oh, I need your money," said Florek. "As the Crow said, he is very expensive."

"Money? What little we have left?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"How much?"

"Half."

There was a ripple of noise. Excitement spread through the crowd, the Banns arguing amongst themselves. Florek raised his hand, summoning silence from all around.

"As the man said," Florek gestured to the assassin. "Antivan Crows are very expensive."

Bann William stood then, shaking his head.

"You expect all of us to hand you half of our treasuries? Just to kill one man?"

"No," said Florek. "I expect you to hand over half your treasuries to kill his friends. You will give me the rest after he is dead."

This of course summoned a loud shout from the nobles, arguments and discord. They shouted their discontent, those that weren't swayed by the bloody heap on the floor before them.

Florek grinned knowingly to himself. He had but to raise his hands once more and the crowd would still for him.

"Under me you shall rule," he said. "I will take care of my allies. You will have greater wealth than you can fathom, I promise you that. But I will need… collateral."

"With all due respect," said Bann William. "Ceorlic had a point… Many men have tried, and not one is here now. You ask a great deal of us."

The man was brave, standing as he did. Florek could turn him inside out. Or have him tear out his own throat. He didn't, though. Now was the time for diplomacy.

"I will kill this Grey Warden," said Florek. "I will be King. And each of you my vassals. And I demand tribute."

Bann William looked around, nervous. And he sat back down, silent. He had lost big in the war, between the Darkspawn and Loghain's soldiers. The Wardens hadn't done enough to help him. He hated the Arl of Amaranthine, the bastard. He hated the Couslands. He would pay. All he had and more if it meant making them bleed.

"We will do this," said one of the Banns. "If it means my father's death will be avenged, then we will do this."

"Indeed we shall," said another. "I pledge this."

Florek grinned wider at the chorus of affirmatives that followed.