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"Are you absolutely sure about him?"

Odin had been waiting for this question all evening. He turned to his fellow Grey Warden who was glancing suspiciously at the newest member of their entourage.

"No, but then I wasn't sure about Sten, Leliana, Morrigan or our wooden menace. They've all worked out well. In any case if he attempts to kill us again I'd rather keep close where I can see him."

"But you don't think he will, otherwise you would've just killed him" replied Alistair.

Odin stroked his beard in thought. Alistair is not nearly as foolish as he first seems.

"No I don't. His explanation made sense and I'm good at reading people. So I trust our new Antivan friend enough to give him a chance."

"Even with his shady background?" asked Alistair, looking incredulous.

One of the casteless dwarf's rather bushy eyebrows rose at that.

"I have a shady background but that didn't stop Duncan from recruiting me."

Alistair looked suitably reproached and rather mournful at the mention of his deceased mentor. Odin quickly decided to stop Alistair's inevitable misery the best way he knew how; changing the subject.

"Besides" Odin continued his lips quirking upwards "many people might think you have a shady background…your Royal Highness."

Alistair groaned. "You're never going to forget that are you?"

"Nope" replied the smiling Warden. The smile suddenly died when a thought hit him. "I'm sure others have remembered it as well."

Alistair only sighed at that. The thought had crossed his mind before, along with all its' implications.

"My, my, such sober faces my dear Wardens." Said an approaching Zevran, having just finished pitching the tent. "Has someone died?"

"You mean apart from all your assassin friends?" said Alistair, his glare returning.

Zevran scoffed at that. "They were hardly friends and certainly not assassins. Arl…Howe was it? He gave me the pick of the dungeons, which wasn't much, and a few hired thugs. Hardly up to the usual Crow standards. If he had given a few good men well…"

"The fight might have been a bit less one-sided." Replied Odin with a grin "I wonder if this Arl friend of Loghain's is simply a cheapskate or he just keeps underestimating us." The Dwarf paused "If it's the latter I don't know whether to be relieved or insulted."

"From what I've seen I'd say both" responded Zevran, "although I cannot imagine many people expecting a wooden chest luring three people to their… untimely demise."

Odin shrugged. "That's their problem, though from our friend's performance so far most don't get the chance to worry for that long."

"So it seems, still such a rare item would be worth a fortune, a king's ransom perhaps." Zevran speculated.

"Well this trunk has followed us since our journey from Ostagar, I'm not sure it could be sold even if we wanted to" Odin replied.

"The timing was perfect and the chest has been really useful." Alistair said, almost to himself "Maybe Leliana is right, perhaps it was sent by the Maker."

"Your god has a pretty weird sense of humour if he did" Odin stated.

"Life is funny like that" Zevran agreed. "But tell me, who is this Leliana you speak of, another enchanting companion?"

"She's not a mage" Alistair explained innocently. "She and a couple of others are staying at Redcliffe while we go to the Circle Tower."

"And why is that?"

Alistair and Odin exchanged glances.

"It's complicated"

"Ah!"

Still with the mage's support we should get the help we need Odin hoped as he stood watch later that evening. Then his eyes turned to currently motionless Luggage. Perhaps some answers as well.

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By the Stone this is odd. Odin was looking out across Lake Calenhad from the deck of a large boat. He had just risen having spent the night on this vessel with Redcliffe slowly coming into view. Both the Templars and Mages had agreed that requisitioning a boat was the best way to get the mages, and their equally important Lyrium, over to the possessed child. It was better than marching through a war torn country with some very old and untrained feet slowing them down.

Odin smiled grimly as he watched the Sunrise. The last few days had been one argument after another. First with that idiot of a Templar refusing to get them to Circle's island, believing them to be imposters while claiming that he was the Queen of Antiva (much to Zevran's amusement). Then the fun task finding out the Circle was in uproar and telling the so-called Knight Commander that locking the doors, assuming that every single mage was dead, and waiting for reinforcements that almost certainly hadn't got the message, was not a sensible plan. So having forced the Grey Wardens into doing his job and saving the mages Knight Commander Greagoir then turned his attention to the chest. Yes it is a magical artefact. Yes it is needed by the Grey Wardens for this mission. No it will not be given to the holy Templar's of the Chantry for 'further investigation and safe keeping.' By the time those conversations were done Odin was almost glad to go into the tower proper, even as the Templars locked the doors behind them. By the time he got out again the Dwarf was thoroughly sick of the Circle tower and most of its inhabitants, preachy mages, crazy blood mages, possessed Templars, unhinged Templars and, of course, daemons. Still he got what he needed in the end; help with the Blight and Redcliffe. He had even got some extra help. As much as her insistence on providing 'guidance' and finger waging was frustrating Wynne's healing skills were far too useful to pass up. Perhaps she might teach Morrigan Odin had at first thought, but then again from what he knew of both women… that might be more trouble than its worth.

Odin was joined on the deck by Alistair, who had managed to scrounge up some Breakfast.

"Morning"

"Morning"

"I take you want some food?"

"Defiantly, this Grey Warden appetite is relentless. If I was still in Dust Town I'd have become a cannibal by now."

"That bad hmm?"

"Worse"

The food was handed over. Both wardens ate in silence with very little in the way of table manners.

"Have you got any answers from the Mages about our wooden friend?" asked Alistair, once they had both finished.

"Only a lot of beard stroking and chin scratching so far" replied Odin, deliberately stroking his own rather impressive facial hair. "Followed by a great deal of very technical, completely incomprehensible discussion, is that a mage thing?"

"Oh of course" agreed Alistair. "All mages have to wear robes and talk complete gibberish that sounds incredibly wise, with occasional staff waving for emphasis."

Odin grinned; it was just too easy to pass up. "When you say 'staff waving'…"

Alistair looked confused "what do you…oh Maker! I did not need that image in my head!"

At this point the laughing Odin and the mortified Alistair were joined by First Enchanter Irving. In robes and with his long, flowing beard. Fortunately for the two wardens the Enchanter's staff was firmly strapped to his back and not waving in the slightest.

"Ah First Enchanter, good morning, according to the captain we should be docked in Redcliffe within the next couple of hours." Odin said, just managing to pull himself together. "Are your people prepared to perform this ritual?"

"We are" replied the elderly mage "after all the services you have done for us this is the least we can do. I must also admit that it is a pleasant change to be out of the tower and allowed to use our gifts to assist in these dark times."

Odin thought he saw a glint in the eyes of Irving at that point. That is true but the cunning old man must know the value of having a powerful nobleman in his debt, and perhaps his only child as a ward in the near future. Home or surface world, politics doesn't change.

"That is a relief" Alistair said fervently "but still" he continued "have you found out anything the chest?"

"It is a most intriguing creation to be sure. I can certainly see why Greagoir was so determined to see it handed over to the Templars."

"I almost wish I'd agreed to it" Odin grimaced "judging by the way it was growling at him the illustrious Knight Commander wouldn't have lasted a day."

Irving smiled "It has a definitely has a… unique personality. I and three my fellows engaged it in a rather hard fought tug of war over one of our more ancient books, and poor Keili nearly lost a hand."

"Was she alright?" asked Alistair, sounding rather concerned.

"Oh yes" Irving replied, waving hand dismissively. "She seemed to think it was 'a just punishment from the Maker for my accursed magic', A sweet girl but too devout for her own good."

"So" asked Odin, eager to get the conversation back to its' original point "what have you found out?"

"Very little" sighed Irving "The magic around the chest is powerful, no question. Whether the wood, which incidentally appears to be unrecognisable, was always magical or it was enchanted none of us can say. It is a complete mystery; I have never seen, heard or even read of anything like it."

Odin was disappointed but not completely surprised by this answer. No one on seemed to know anything about their walking luggage. But it followed them around, ate bandits, Darkspawn and other enemies as well as providing weapons and, most importantly, laundry. It would stay with them for now but his frustration at his lack of answer was summed up by his mind in two words.

Bloody Typical

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"It is so good to be on the road again and all together." Leliana said happily.

Remarkably everyone seemed to agree on this.

From what Odin had heard so far from his reunited companions Redcliffe may have been safer but their situation was no less awkward or frustrating. Bann Teagan had been a polite host but was completely occupied with re-organising Redcliffe. As for the Arlessa she had spent her time shrieking at everyone within earshot or frantically praying for deliverance in the castle's chapel. The rest of Castle Redcliffe was still on edge with the possessed child locked, but certainly not powerless, in his room. As well as dealing with their unusual new guests.

Sten had been his normal stoic self, which had left most of the servants terrified, though perhaps regularly sharpening his great sword in anticipation of (possibly) executing a child-abomination may have helped. The fact that he was a member of the Qun had also gotten out, managing to scandalise the surviving priests, almost as much as Morrigan's presence as an obvious apostate had. Morrigan herself was seemly torn between amusement and irritation by the stay. Aside from the priestly disapproval most of the male half of the castle had been thoroughly distracted by her presence while female half had either whispered behind her back or asked if she would like something warmer to wear. Leliana had managed to 'keep the peace' as Odin asked, even calming Arlessa Isolde a little, but she looked exhausted by the time Odin and the mages had arrived. Poor girl, decided Odin afterwards she earned that gold Chantry amulet I gave her. Still it was done; mother, child and Redcliffe were safe and the daemon was dead.

But now we're being sent on a mad quest for a scholar and the ashes of a dead prophet. That galling thought had been running through Odin's head seen their departure from the castle. He had the Darkspawn to deal with but now he had to save Arl Eamon as well. Bloody politics can wait he decided, we've got other things to do on the way.

Odin suppressed his planning for the moment and looked at the group behind him. Zevran and Wynne had been introduced to the rest of the group and were appearing to blend in well. Leliana and Wynne seemed to be in a deep discussion about the damn Sacred Ashes, Sten was being stoic and menacing at the back and Zevran was flirting with Morrigan, while avoiding being hit by her staff at the same time of course.

As for the Luggage and Poacher the Mabari they appeared to be taking turns chasing one another through the nearby trees.

Alistair approached Odin.

"So how are going to contact our Scholarly friend if he's in the middle of the Loghain controlled Capital?"

"I was thinking cloaks and fake beards" Odin flippantly responded. "But before that we should go…" he paused, to look at his weather stained map "to the Brecilian forest and see if we can find these Dalish Elves, since we're going right past it anyway. I'm sure it won't take too…" Odin stopped and remembered Morrigan's gloating about Redcliffe being a nice rest. "Well that's the plan."

Alistair looked around "but this road is going the wrong way."

"A completely intended and minor detour" assured Odin "you remember that merchant we met on the road? Felix de… whatever his name was."

"The one who gave you an all powerful stick?"

"It's not a stick! It's a control rod for a Golem, I used to hear stories about them as far back as I can remember. If there is a working Golem in this village we must get it! They crush Darkspawn by the dozen and they are worth their weight in gold, literally."

"Alright" conceded Alistair "That does sound useful".

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