The city of Ostwick stood on a high promontory that overlooked the Waking Sea on the west coast and the Amaranthine Ocean on the east. The white stone walls were washed with a golden-rose colour as the sun dropped into the west, standing in stark contrast to the deeply forested Vimmark Mountains which were their backdrop.

Asleena looked back and up at the sky, peering past the Summerset's sails. Black clouds were chasing them from the east, a storm blowing in from the Amaranthine. If she watched long enough she could catch the random flickers of lightning between thunderheads. Emilien had said they would beat the storm to Ostwick, but it was looking like it might be a near thing. The wind had picked up significantly.

The upside was that said wind was blowing in the right direction, and they were running before it with swift ease. Repairs to the rigging after the battle two days ago had only taken a couple of hours to complete; ropes aside, only one of the lower sails had been significantly damaged and the ship carried spare canvas. Asleena had tried to talk Emilien into accepting something, anything, to cover his costs, but he wouldn't have any of it.

"If I really come down with a shortage of coin, my lady, I'll put it down as a Grey Warden expense and let my father know," the captain had told her with a grin.

She was just relieved he didn't seem to hold anything serious against her for endangering his ship and crew.

At present, Zevran was further down the deck with Ferrix, surrounded by a small clutch of admirers. He'd become a favourite amongst the female members of Emilien's crew early on, much to the dismay of the other sailors, and they took every opportunity they could when he wasn't at Asleena's side. She smiled to herself as a couple of the women laughed at some remark the elf had made. He was a rogue, a charmer and a shameless flirt, everything she had not grown up with in Highever as daughter of a Teyrn. Her noble blood, fondness for large weapons and proficiency as a warrior had tended to, if not scare men off completely, make them treat her with a cautious, distant respect.

As for Zevran…it was hard for her to define where she stood with him sometimes. She enjoyed his outrageous flatteries and had initially played along with his many suggestive comments only because she never thought him serious—he spoke to every woman that way after all, not to mention a number of men. A couple of times she had suspected he saw her as more than just someone else to bed, but could never be certain that wasn't just her own vanity talking. Things had come to a head between them some time ago in Ferelden when he had offered her a massage and more. Knowing where it might lead and not wanting to hurt Alistair, she had declined.

Noticing she was watching him, Zevran said something to his attentive audience and sauntered up to the foredeck with a wide smile on his face. "Thinking of me?" he asked, and when she completely failed to respond he added, "I see. With clothes or without?"

"With!" she blurted, blushing furiously, and indicated the pouting women he'd left behind with a small jerk of her chin. "Which is more than I can say for them, I think."

"I was just regaling them with the tale of our epic infiltration of Fort Drakon," Zevran said, reaching down to rub Ferrix's ears. "They loved it."

"You added embellishments in all the right places, I suppose."

"My dear, you wound me! Am I a bard who needs to twist the truth for a good story? My exploits and talents require no such exaggerations."

"You're impossible, you know that?"

A sly glint entered his eyes. "Completely the opposite, actually."

"Maker's Breath…" Asleena groaned, and turned her burning face back out to sea. Ferrix came up beside her and put his paws on the rail, demanding attention by pushing her hand with his nose. "Bet you'll be as happy as me to be on solid ground again," she said to the dog, determined to change the subject. "Birds to chase. Dirt to dig up. Trees to p—" she caught herself and cleared her throat. "Well. Lots and lots of trees."

"Lots of elves, too," Zevran said. "Maybe not so many here in the south, I'm not entirely sure, but further inland? Elves aplenty."

"You've been here before?"

"Not to Ostwick, but the Free Marches border Antiva, and the Green Dales lie somewhere along that boundary."

"I forgot there were Dalish up here," Asleena said thoughtfully. "Are they anything like the ones back in Ferelden?"

Zevran chuckled and lounged back against the railing. "How should I know? Because I am an elf? Suffice to say, we move in different circles. And mine don't involve dancing around trees singing to nature spirits."

"They're not all that bad. The Dalish helped us against the darkspawn, didn't they?"

"In Ferelden, perhaps." The assassin made a dismissive gesture. "But that is of no moment. Have you decided what we'll do when we get to Ostwick?"

"Besides get some rooms for the night? Ask around and pray that someone can give us some useful information."

"Ah! A tavern crawl! It's been a while."

"This isn't a holiday," Asleena replied sternly, but couldn't repress a smile.

"More's the pity. You could do with one."

She gestured towards the city. "If we're getting closer to Antiva, do you think we'll run into any more trouble?"

He shrugged a nod. "It's possible. We weren't exactly taking any pains in hiding where we wanted to sail back in Denerim. Information is a commodity too, you know, and it has ways of travelling ahead."

Asleena brooded on this for a moment, watching the sunlit walls of Ostwick gradually darken as the sun slipped below the mountains. "Are you worried?" she asked.

"Me? No. Bring them on, I say!"

The Summerset coasted in towards port, while behind them the first distant rumblings of thunder could finally be heard on the wind.


The rain hit just after the ship tied up to the docks, and not as a wispy drizzle that slowly built up over time, either. Great sheets of it sluiced down from the angry clouds, drenching any who failed to scramble for cover. The waves had increased in size and frequency, and Asleena was glad to get off the Summerset's deck before its rocking could become any more intense. Captain Emilien had invited them to remain until the storm blew over or at least abated a little, but the Warden had politely declined.

"Good luck finding your friend then," Emilien had said, giving her a bow and a smile. "If you find him quickly or change your mind about heading for Hereinia, the Summerset will still be here tomorrow and dawn the next day. Otherwise, farewell."

And with that, Asleena, Zevran and Ferrix were ashore again. Human and elf were wrapped head to foot in great cloaks in an attempt to stay as dry as possible, but the way to Ostwick was a winding path up the eastern face of the bluff so shelter from the storm was practically non-existent. A wooden rail had been set into the rock as an aid against fatal falls, but the driving wind and rain made for poor footing. Even Ferrix slipped once or twice on the treacherous ascent. When they finally reached the top and made it to the torch-lit southern gates of the city, it was to find the portcullis closed.

"You're kidding," Zevran muttered, turning his back to the wind and rubbing his chilled hands. "No welcome party?"

Asleena peered through the bars. "Hello?" she called. "Anyone?"

An armoured guard appeared on the other side, his approach barely audible above the storm. "What?" he demanded, eyeing all three of them with undisguised suspicion.

Asleena and Zevran exchanged a glance. "We just arrived in port," Asleena began.

"Then you'd best return to your ship until sunup," the guard interrupted. "Gates stay closed until then."

"Go back down in this?" Asleena objected, waving a hand at the deluge.

"You were the fool who came up in this."

"I'm in a hurry! You seriously can't just let us in?"

"No, I seriously can't," the guard replied. "It's not worth my life or the lives of anyone in Ostwick to let in strangers after dark. Get back to your ship and return in the morning."

"That sounded ominous," Zevran remarked.

"What's so terrible around here that you have to shut up tighter than a Circle Tower?" Asleena asked.

"Cannibals," the guard said darkly. "Blood drinkers and flesh eaters. Now if you have any sense, get back to your ship! You get attacked and I won't be coming out to help."

One of Asleena's hands shot out to grab a bar when the guard made to leave. "What's to stop them going down to the docks?" she demanded.

He only shrugged. "Maybe it's too far or too difficult to travel. We've not heard of any ships being troubled during the night, though." He touched a hand to his helmet and walked out of sight.

"Isn't there another way in?" Asleena shouted, unwilling to give up.

"No! You're welcome to try the north gate, but that's locked even tighter."

She turned away with a growl, drawing her cloak more closely around herself.

"Next time tell them you're a Grey Warden," Zevran suggested.

"That doesn't always work. I tried it on a Templar once outside Kinloch Hold and he made some snide response about being the Queen of Antiva."

He grinned, but said, "It can't hurt to try again."

"North gate, then?"

"Indeed. This is all your fault, by the way," he added conversationally, falling in beside her. "Ever since meeting up with you it has become impossible to walk into a locale without encountering some sort of horrible plot, monster, or quest hook."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

It took almost an hour to circle the city, and while the rain let up somewhat in that time it was still heavy. There was no road or path circling the wall either, so both Asleena and Zevran were muddy to the knees after the trek. Ferrix was particularly sodden and dirty and didn't look at all happy by the time they reached the northern gate. Approaching the torch-flanked portcullis, Asleena called out again for any guards.

Two appeared this time, and neither looked pleased to see the travellers.

"I'm sorry, but the city is barred until dawn."

"Maybe I can help?" Asleena tried. "I'm a Grey Warden."

"I thought all the Grey Wardens were heading to Ferelden."

"The Orlesian ones, yes. We're from Ferelden. Just pulled in to the docks today."

"You're both Grey Wardens?"

"No, just me!"

"So what's he then?" the guard asked, pointing at Zevran.

The second guard finally elbowed his comrade. "That don't matter. Lady, if you arrived on a ship you'd best get back to it. Southern post should have told you that."

"They did," Asleena said. "We were hoping you'd be more reasonable."

"Reason is why we keep the gates shut in the first place. Only these and the walls keeping the flesh eaters out. They could be out there in the dark right now waiting for us to open this thing for you."

Asleena sighed wearily and shook some of the rain off her cloak. "I suppose I can't fault you wanting to protect your city. Tell me about this cannibal problem of yours."

"'Tis your life, woman. You want to go looking for trouble, take the road behind you into the mountains. We tried contacting the Circle Tower at Starkhaven to sort it out, thought it might be Blood Magic trouble, but it wouldn't have reached them yet."

"Where's the north road go?"

"Through the Vimmark Mountains and up to Markham, eventually, but we think the problem's source is a mining village along the way." The guard seemed to consider. "You might make it there in two hours, maybe three in this weather."

"I'm all for a dark and rainy journey," Zevran announced, grinning beneath his cowl. "After darkspawn and dragons, cannibals just don't have the same intimidation factor."

"I wouldn't take it so lightly. A Templar came through here just when the trouble had started, said he might give it a look." The guard shook his head. "Haven't seen him since."

"How long ago was this?"

"Two weeks, I think, yes?" the guard looked at his companion, who nodded. "He might've been lying about being a Templar, though. Didn't have that shield of theirs, nor the armour."

Asleena regarded him sharply. "What did he look like? Fair hair, about this tall, muscular build?"

"That sounds about right, yeah. Enchanted sword, too. Had a fire playing about his blade. Friend of yours?"

"You could say that, yes."

The guard looked between Asleena and Zevran, sighed and shrugged a shoulder. "I won't be telling you what to do, but don't get your hopes up. Watch yourselves out there." He tapped the other guard on the shoulder and the two withdrew from the entrance.

Asleena turned from the gate and stared off into the rainy night. "He was here," she said suddenly, needing to speak the words out loud.

"I take it we're not going back to sleep on the Summerset then?" Zevran guessed wryly. Then he grinned. "Dark and rainy journey with cannibals?"

Asleena's answering smile flashed in the firelight. "Let's go."