Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age

I know, the update took a while but I hope it doesn't disappoint, I haven't given up on this one don't worry.

Also the scenes towards the end include a lot of violence against women and very strong language


Rise of the Hawk's: Reunion

Chapter 6: City of chains

Daylen had heard that some elves often had feelings when they stepped on land that once belonged to their people. Then again elves tended to think they owned everything, that humans had no sense of originality in ideas or achievements. Daylen had more than once met the reasonable kinds of elves who had no feelings over the discovery of history. Not that they didn't care about the lost secrets of their people, they just valued other things that were just as important, rather than bask at the feeling of reclaiming lost history they simply thought of the practical use, what they could learn from that history. Humans were similar in the fact that some people just didn't get strong connections to their homelands. So when Daylen stepped into Kirkwall for the first time in twenty years he did not mourn what his homeland once was, for he had been a child back then and had not known what went on outside of his house, the barriers between nobility and the common folk. He felt nothing upon reaching Kirkwall, no urge to kiss the ground, no feeling that he had returned home because Kirkwall wasn't home for him just as the circle wasn't home for him. Alls he felt was the urge to help the people who looked like they needed help.

But he couldn't just throw coin at the feet of every poor person begging on the streets. He had to start influencing the city, investing in jobs for the refugees whom had taken Kirkwall as their home. Daylen and his companions entered the city of chains through the main gates of Lowtown. The markets were abuzz with activity, people browsing items, hagglers distracting merchants so thieves could take a loaf or a bag from their stall. Bevin pointed to the thieves but Daylen cut him off, intending to speak to him later about intervening and productive forms of help. Giving people coin and food was good, but they were at best temporary solutions, just enough to pick someone up. Helping was good, but lifting up was better, to lift someone up you had to give them opportunities. He lifted Wade and Herren up by giving them a reputation, by giving them materials to make fantastic works of art and the greatest blades and armour Thedas had ever seen. Bella he lifted up by saving her life at Redcliffe, by giving her confidence to protect herself from men whom only saw a tavern girl. Likewise he did the same with Bevin, showing him what courage truly was, returning his grandfather's sword and teaching him how to use it. Helping people was enough for Daylen, he was happy helping people. Uplifting however could not only be satisfying for Daylen but also influence real change.

"Why Lowtown?" Bella asked.

"Its seen by the nobility and Viscount just enough for whatever to go on there to have an impact, it's the place where the majority of Kirkwall faces struggle, a struggle I'll try to help make better and there's enough opportunity here for both smith work and taverns," Daylen explained.

"What makes you think I want to go for tavern work?" the red head put her hands to her hips and smirked at the warden.

Daylen sheepishly backed away, raising his hands defensively and grabbing for an excuse. Bella then began laughing, bring her hands away from her hips and wiping a tear from her eye. Daylen often didn't see jokes when it came to women, he was by no means a sexist and any woman who spent more than a few seconds speaking to him would know it. That didn't mean Bella didn't like playing the sexism game with him.

"I stick to what I'm good at, I've heard there's a pretty respectable tavern called the Hanged Man," Bella said.

"It's in the bad part of town," Harren pointed out.

"Really? So is Hightown the respectable part of town because it has the Blooming Rose there?"

"Good point!"

"Why don't we start working at Hightown, we already worked in the dirt at Denerim," Wade said.

"Wade, we don't have as good a reputation around these parts yet, once we've proven ourselves at the smithies here the nobility will be drawn to us and then we can begin making works of art again," his partner explained.

Daylen nodded his head in agreement, Wade was good at shaping armour and weapons from challenging materials like Silverite and Volcanic steel, but he didn't enjoy making weapons. He considered the golem shell armour and Vigilance works of art and not mere weapons. Lowtown had one or two smithies, a crowd that could watch Wade work and spread word of his expertise. Daylen looked at his apprentice and knew that Bevin intended to join the city guard, it would be starting point for Bevin to become more familiar with the cruel aspects of big city crime and a place where he could perfect his skills on his own.

"We can go our separate ways here or go to each of our places together," Daylen said.

"I think it's better if we go now Daylen, oh how fortunate I was to have met you, you whom changed my life forever," Wade said, wiping a tear from his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Daylen.

"Wade, you do realise Daylen's going to be living in this city right?" Harren asked.

"Hush, I'm savouring the moment," Wade rubbed the plates of Daylen's armour.

'He's not saying goodbye to Daylen...he's saying goodbye to the armour,' Bella and Bevin thought, sweat drops running down the backs of their heads.

"See you later Daylen," Harren said casually.

Waving a goodbye to the two men, Daylen walked with Bella and Bevin through the streets of Kirkwall's Lowtown. Most of the houses were made of stone that looked brittle, not capable of surviving sieges or break ins. The city guard patrols were also infrequent, all the way to the foreign markets Daylen hadn't seen one guard and there were at least thirteen petty crimes that could have been averted by the presence of a guard. Bella and Bevin were instantly draw to the Ferelden imports store, which unlike the other national stores was in a shack and not set up at a stall. There was also a line of people going through another door. Whilst his two companions walked into the store, Daylen remained outside, passing the Antivan imports and browsing the potions stall. The woman managing it was dressed in modest attire that seemed half way between nobility and commoner. She carried herself like a noble woman, with a straight posture and an elegance that matched her beauty, and she was by all accounts beautiful, blonde hair and blue eyes and full lips. Her skills as a herbalist were also evidenced by the condition of the potions. Daylen removed a poultice and pulled off the cork, sniffing the contents.

"It smells terrible, which usually means it works," Daylen said.

"You won't find anything made in the wild here, we use quality ingredients freshly picked and we take our time brewing them," the lady said.

"Indeed, quick forming is good on the field but it helps to have them prepared in advance," Daylen put the bottle down and reached for his purse.

"If you don't mind me being so bold are you a sell sword or part of a mercenary group?" she asked.

"No, though I often cross paths with that world, I wanted to invest in growing businesses here in Kirkwall but I also wanted an opportunity to make some coin for myself. I like your stock and you strike me as experienced , and I hope you don't mind me being so bold you seem to be of nobility," Daylen bowed his head slightly.

The woman took no offence and curtsied, smiling at the armoured man.

"By marriage, Lady Elegant at your service, my husband has influence enough to get us into the finest parties but we haven't got the influence to sell in Hightown. It would be a waste of time anyway, I wanted to be here between both worlds so it would be easy for people of all status to buy from me. If you intend to provide Kirkwall's flourishing businesses with entrepreneurial help then you may want to start by setting yourself above the merchant's guild," the woman had a cautious look in her eyes and her voice cracked slightly, indicating concern.

"I am not afraid of the guild and I know how to deal with them. Your stock is good, well made and I presume it works well but I'm curious to know what level of experience you have in providing potions in mass quantities," Daylen explained.

"Not for the guard or even the templars, surprisingly its only smugglers or mercenaries with sufficient coin to hire the services of a Herbalist. All that you see here is what I've produced myself, I employ only hirelings to help carry my stuff from and back to my house every day," Lady Elegant said.

"There's a good amount of potions here though I noticed you don't have many tonics," Daylen paused, reaching into his bag until he pulled out a sheet of paper. "Here, some easy to make tonic recipes, where you can get the materials and their applications," he stated before removing a small vial from his pouch. "Most assist in the building of immunities to certain wild poisons, others provide relief for burns and act as disinfectants," the warden explained.

Lady Elegant, already intrigued by the mysterious knight looked over the documents and smiled. She saw that most of the plants needed for certain potions were actually grown in the regions surrounding Kirkwall. Though there were a few that didn't the knight also suggested alternatives. It was by no means a waste of time for either of them. He didn't waste words and though he was charming and polite he wasn't a sycophant. The young man removed a few coins from his pouch and took the poultice he had been sniffing earlier. She watched the knight walk up the steps towards Hightown, meeting with two companions, a young boy carrying an elven sword and a young red haired woman.

'Perhaps those will be faces worth remembering,' Elegant thought.

Bella and Bevin hadn't gotten much from the Ferelden imports though they did make Daylen aware of the situation their people were going through. Lines of Ferelden refugees, homeless and without coin had taken to receiving anything the store had to offer, Bevin told Daylen of how people would leave the store carrying dirty blankets and bits of stale food. It wasn't ideal but Daylen suspected it was all the store owners could afford. The kindness of the nobility seemed to be limited to simply letting the starving refugees into the city, then refusing to give any more than rotten food and unclean, even dangerous living quarters. Yet as Daylen walked through the streets of Hightown he began to see that the markets were just as small as the Lowtown ones.

But the mansions, the estates of the nobility were grand and luxurious, their owners would be in their gardens sipping tea or on the balconies smoking pipes. They lived like the kings of Fereldan, not in excess like the Orlesian nobility but just enough luxury to make the common people envy them. Daylen passed the merchant's guild district and looked at the Viscount's keep. It was more palace than fortress, Daylen could spot weak points in the mere design of the keep that any attacker would use for infiltration. Even though the city guard patrols were more focused around Hightown, security seemed lax, Daylen had caught sight of a few pick pockets. There was something to be respected about a man who could identify a target that could afford to be robbed and to pick his pocket without him realising it. Daylen wasn't about to stop those kind of thieves from earning the living they needed.

"Wow," Bella sighed in awe. "Do you remember it being this beautiful?" she asked.

Daylen lifted his visor up, smiling at the woman as he took her hand.

"This is all just the surface Bella, to me, the struggle and grime of Redcliffe was more beautiful than anything Kirkwall's Hightown has to offer," he explained and proceeded to point to different stalls. "There my mother would look at the silks they had on offer, our butler's daughter was getting married, and she wanted to get something nice for her, she bought a wedding dress so expensive that they sold it after the wedding, the old man could have retired but he stayed on. My uncle would trade in gems for decorative items, stones, candles, the man loved the extravagant, grandfather always told him to give a little to the servants, so he had new doors fitted to the houses of the servants, fine oak with locks only nobles paid for."

"But those are armour and weapons shops now," Bevin pointed out.

"Yeah, the place has changed," Daylen sighed as he slid his visor down.

Alpha whined, sensing his master's depression. The group went through the markets, until they reached the estates between the merchant's guild, and the viscount's keep. Daylen looked out for the Amell estate, or what had been the Amell estate in the past. He recalled a treasured memory as he had done with Bella and Bevin, but it was his memory to keep, his grandfather once held him up high on the balcony of their house.

'Behold Kirkwall, Daylen Amell, the greatest knight born, behold Daylen Amell, Kirkwall, the worst city in the marches,' was what his grandfather had said.

Fausten never denied that there was a corruption festering within the city. He and Threnhold, the last viscount had often spoke of this, though Daylen's young mind couldn't fathom the meaning of their words, and he couldn't recall them now. What he could remember was the friendship between Threnhold and his grandfather, a friendship that was shattered the day the viscount tried to exile the Chantry by force.

'Is the ideal to save Kirkwall mine, or yours grandfather?' he asked himself.

The question would remain unanswered, and of little interest to Daylen. As soon as he saw Alpha frantically bark, and run off, he ran after him. The Mabari ran towards the merchant's guild area, running underneath, and even jumping over crates carried by workers. A dwarf with a seemingly permanent frown yelled at the dog as he passed him. Daylen, Bella and Bevin ran into the district, the latter two bowing and apologising when the workers glared at them. The Warden looked across the street, taking note of the caravans being built, but ultimately scanning for his dog. He saw the dog, and something he didn't quite expect, or rather someone.

Alpha was on top of a young, blonde haired dwarf, licking his face madly. The dwarf laughed and rubbed Alpha's fur, even licking his face back. Alpha pulled his head back, looking at the dwarf in confusion. He then shook his head, as if to say 'oh well', before continuing to lick the dwarfs face. The dwarf's father also laughed and patted Alpha's fur. He wore the same work clothes his son wore, but didn't resemble him at all. Daylen knew they were father and son however, because he knew both dwarves. Bodahn Fedic looked towards the black knight, a smile gracing his lips as he walked forward. Alpha crawled off of Sandal and walked to Daylen's side.

"Enchantment," the simple, but also brilliant dwarf hummed.

Daylen knelt down and opened his arms, wrapping them around both dwarves as they hugged him. Bella wiped her eyes, the tears couldn't stop her from smiling however.


Hanged man

Bethany and Carver shifted nervously in their seats. Both had opposite reasons, Carver was nervous for a fight, Bethany was nervous over discovery. They were the classic warrior and mage pair respectively, he wanted loud, she wanted quiet. Loud came in the form of their sister's laugh, Marian emerged from her rented room with a blush across her face and a bottle in her hand. Carver slapped his forehead in embarrassment, Bethany however simply sighed.

"What have you done?" Carver asked.

"You know that older man who comes in? Has a wife, they both live in Hightown?"

"Yeah," Carver hummed, waiting for Marian to get to the point.

"Anyway, I pulled a classic red jenny trick, got him drunk, in his bedroom and just when we're about to..."

"Oh Maker," Bethany sunk under the table as her sister ranted.

"Then I said, 'sorry, I prefer your wife,'" Marian fell back and laughed.

"How are we related to a hero?" Bethany asked.

"Mother always said Marian took after father, and his attitude could shift at the click of a finger," Carver said.

"I would have loved to have met your father then," Varric spoke from the doorway, leaning there with his arms crossed.

He walked into the room, taking a chair and sitting across from the siblings. A moment of silence passed between them, only breaking when Varric grinned and laughed.

"You two are exactly like Hawke described," he said.

"What has sister said about us?" Carver asked.

"Let's see, Carver, massive chin like dad, uses a great sword to compensate for his lack of expertise in any kind of human contact besides fighting," Varric described.

Carver snarled as he squeezed his hands into fists.

"And Bethany, beautiful, smart and patient," the dwarf winked at the girl, causing her to blush.

"I know your reputation Ser Tethris," she said.

"And I know yours, mage," Varric said.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Carver asked, narrowing his eyes a Varric.

"Nope," he said casually.

"Really? You aren't afraid of magic?" Bethany asked.

"Exactly," he smiled.

"Dwarves aren't completely immune to magic you know," she said.

"I'm part of the Merchant's guild sunshine, most of the people I know want to kill me, and that's just because they think I owe them money. You're nineteen now right? You've spent this long outside of a circle tower, which means you're good enough to stay hidden, which means you've got some good control of your magic, you and I will never have a problem."

Bethany nodded in thanks, already liking the dwarf and his genuinely friendly tone. Carver however still wasn't completely convinced, not in the fact that Varric was genuinely a good person, he was still suspicious of his intentions.

"What about me?" the male Hawke asked.

"Well junior if one thing your sister praised your sword skills, I believe her exact words were 'he could beat all the idiots your brother has hired on his worst day', now I know bullshit when I hear it come out of people's mouths, trust me I'm a master of the art of bullshitting, which is why I know your sister isn't lying," Varric explained.

Carver looked at Varric, thinking it through before he nodded his head in approval.

"Wait a minute, did you just call me junior?"

"You'll get used to me," the dwarf laughed before signalling one of the serving girls over.

He handed her a few sovereigns for a drink. As the girl walked away, Marian slapped her face a few times to sober up. She took a chair at the head of the table and cleared her throat. Today was the day to discuss business, and begin composing a plan for saving money. She fortunately had Bethany for the sensible decisions, and her brother for getting things done. But the room, and her plan felt understandably empty. The pouch she took earlier wasn't significantly big, and wouldn't hold the family for a week.

"We appreciate the offer of help Varric, but realistically, it would take months for us to gather the coin we need to fund an expedition," Bethany said.

"Yeah, we haven't even got a permanent means of getting coin, even then we'd need to give money to our uncle, so we can eat and continue living there," Carver explained.

"Oh no, a permanent job is the worst thing you can do, independent work, favours will get you the coin you need. My brother unfortunately isn't as well liked as your sister is," Varric explained.

"There are always people out there bitching about their problems, waiting for someone to come and help them," Marian said.

"Weirdly your sister is right, Kirkwall's filled with people in need of help, people who will pay for help," Varric nodded to the serving girl as she bought him a drink.

"I suppose we could start with Aveline at the keep," Bethany said.

"It's a good start, but you should try lower down the food chain," Varric said.

"What? Why wouldn't we take help from the nobility in high town?" Carver asked.

"Because they're going to be in the dark and lowly places, looking for the people who are strong or ruthless enough to do their dirty work," Marian explained.

"Exactly, although the blooming rose is another place."

"WHAT!"

"Not like that Hawke...although...I'm kidding," Varric laughed as Bethany and Marian shot glares at him. "You just need to keep your ears out and listen to people in need of help, and check the chanter's board every now and then, sometimes a less than charitable job will get nailed onto it."

"Okay I get it, but what about getting into the deep roads, you mentioned an entrance would be a problem," Carver said.

"It won't be a problem if we know where to look, expeditions into the deep roads haven't been common in Kirkwall, or the free marches in general really, there's only one particular group that could tell us where to look for an effective entrance and exit, a group that has mapped the deep roads," Varric explained.

"The Grey Wardens."

"You guessed it sunshine, we'll need to talk to the grey wardens, other than a cache where people can donate information and equipment, there isn't a very big warden influence in Kirkwall," Varric said.

"So who are we supposed to talk to then?" Marian asked.

"I've heard rumours of a Grey Warden staying in the city, the source is reliable, but whoever he is, is secretive and doesn't reveal his location to many people," Varric said.

"I see, where can we start tracking him?" Bethany asked.

"There's a shop that supports Ferelden refugees, that would be the best place to start."

"It's just a short distance away from the hanged man actually," Varric said.

He stood up, latching his crossbow onto his back.

"Should we make our way over there?" he asked.

"Yeah, its best we get this search for the grey warden over with," Marian said.

She slid her daggers into their sheaths and stood up. Carver and Bethany picked up their own weapons and followed their sister. Unbeknownst to the company though, they were being watched by a man in a mercenary uniform.


The Blooming rose was a respectable enough place, good enough for a drink with an old friend. That was Daylen and Bodhan's only interest in the place. Bevin sat next to Daylen, blushing uncomfortably whenever a half naked woman would walk past. The boy had better hearing than Daylen, so he was hearing every little sound in the brothel. He nearly reached for his sword when he saw a group of templars.

"Recruits, don't worry about them," Daylen whispered to him.

He took his hand away from the blade, looking at the templars again. Most were barely a few years older than him. Some had eager smiles on their faces, others tried and failed to put on the mask of professionalism and pride most fully trained templars had. Bella walked over to the group, nursing her right hand.

"Is everything okay?" Bevin asked.

"Had to punch a guy who got a bit too fresh with me, he actually thought I worked here," she said.

She took a seat next to Daylen and downed the ale waiting for her.

"If there's trouble we can go," he said.

"No, the mistress said he deserved it and even the other patrons laughed, his bark is worse than his bite trust me," Bella gestured to the scene taking place behind her.

Daylen looked over her shoulder, seeing a middle aged man nursing his jaw. The mistress of the rose crossed her arms together as he walked towards the door.

"Watch yourself next time Gamlen," she said.

"Blasted Ferelden's, no distinction between tavern wench and prostitute," the man said.

"Disgusting," Bella muttered.

"It couldn't be," she heard Daylen whisper.

He stood up, recalling a face and voice from long ago. It didn't resonate with him as much as his mother or grandfather's, but the memory was strong. The man had been younger however, less bitter, and brighter too in a way that separated nobles from commoners. Daylen began walking to the door, stopping as he barged into an older man in a mercenary outfit.

"Watch where your fucking going, goddamned nob knights," the man said bitterly.

Daylen was prepared to ignore him and continue looking for Gamlen, he was stopped however when another mercenary dashed towards his leader.

"They're ready Meeran, they'll catch Hawke as she goes to the markets," the mercenary said.

"Good, and her brother and sister?"

"They're with her."

"Good, after what that cunt did to my hand, I hope hers is long and painful, make sure they leave the body where it is, the rest of the do gooders will learn what happens when you fuck with the Red Iron," Meeran explained, taking a swig from his drink.

Daylen looked at the mercenaries, whom were completely ignorant of his interest. He walked back over to the table and picked up his lance.

"Sorry Bodahn, Sandal, we'll have to catch up another time," he said.

"What's wrong?" Bevin asked.

"Nothing I can't handle alone, Bodahn can you help my friends settle?" Daylen asked.

"Of course mister Amell, once again it's good to see you," Bodahn smiled.

Daylen held his lance tightly as he walked out of the blooming rose.


"Maker damn it, 'oh don't worry mother, everything will be fine, Meeran's bark is worse than his bite', yeah great logic sister!"

"Oh shut up Carver!"

"Would you both please be quiet, this isn't the time to fight each other," Bethany cut through her sibling's arguments and turned her attention to their pursuers.

The store had been crowded by people trying to get in, so much that Marian decided it would be better to find the Warden in the morning. Making their way back through the markets, the group noticed they were being followed. Low town's rooftops were easy to climb up to, and even easier to traverse, they made aerial attacks easy. Ambushing however was another story, Varric had given the first warning. He had saved Carver from an arrow to the throat, afterwards the mercenaries jumped from the roof and chased after them.

"This is not a good way to go, they'll box us in if we keep going this way," Varric said.

"Where too then?" Marian asked.

"Take a left," he said.

The Hawke siblings and their dwarven companion turned, running down another cavern like street. Sliding to a halt, the group barged into another group of mercenaries. Carver was the first to get up out of the hurdle, drawing his sword and swinging it round.

"GET BACK!" he yelled.

The men were cautious, stepping away from the Hawke, only for the sake of their own safety. But any threat Carver had paled in comparison to what would happen if they failed. Carver walked backwards with the group as they made their way to an alleyway.

"Shit, not a good place to go either," Varric said as mercenaries came out of their hiding spots.

Marian's eyes darted around, counting each enemy.

'Four on the rooftops, scratch that now ten on the streets, six behind us, two dagger men, eight swords, four maces, two spears, no mages, all disorganised, no sign of Meeran, Maker damned coward, no respect either if he's sending these men against us,' she analysed the situation in her humoured manner.

She drew her daggers as Varric drew out his bow, and Bethany her staff. Their actions didn't make the men back down however, they continued to approach.

"Bethany, fire in front," Marian said.

Bethany hesitantly waved her hand around, launching a fireball at the mercenaries. Ambushed or not, she was still an apostate in a city run by the templars. The fire grazed the shields of the men in front, but it was enough to get them to back off.

"Ice in the back," she commanded.

Again Bethany waved her hand, this time releasing a winter's grasp at the men behind her. It hit some of them with frost bite, but it wasn't enough to kill them. Adrenaline took over for some, but a shot from Bianca gave them pause, and bought another man to the ground. Marian was glad to have Varric there, and Bianca, it was a useful weapon despite the mystery behind it. She raised her daggers, cursing her stupidity for not bringing her bow. With one man already dead, another ran forward. Carver easily deflected the man's blow and slashed him across the gut. He raised the blade, a pose for fighting he had been taught in the military, it was also a taunt, an urge for the men to come at him. There were two or three men bigger than Carver, but Marian knew he could beat them. No amount of skill however could overcome numbers, or match the authorities. Whatever bribes Meeran had given the guards wouldn't hold if the fight lasted too long, or if Bethany's magic was fully unleashed.

"Push forward," she commanded.

She gripped Carver's shirt, using him as a make shift phalanx. Carver held the flat end of his sword, using it to shove his enemies back. It was a quick and strong strike, enough to give them room to move. They shuffled into the open space, Marian saw some people shut the curtains on their windows. None had the luxury of alerting the guard, and others simply didn't care what happened outside their door. Marian braced herself as the spear men ran forward. Carver was already in front of her, shattering the poles with a single swing of his sword. He beheaded one of the men and pointed his blade at the other's neck.

"Fuck em, we've got orders," the other men ran forward in groups.

Varric fired a bolt, hitting a mercenary in the leg. Carver imbedded his sword in another man's chest, yanking it out and blocking another enemy's strike. Bethany, on instinct threw her hand forward, spraying an attacker with fire. The flames melted his leather armour onto his skin, and coated his face, his screams echoed through the streets. Before, Marian had taken care to keep Bethany away from the serious fights of the Red Iron. She had tried to keep Bethany from seeing, and feeling the death of a human being at her own hands. Darkspawn were different, their agony you could enjoy. Marian saw the horror on her sister's face, the lump in her throat from vomit.

"BETHANY LOOK OUT!" Marian screamed.

"MOVE!" Carver yelled.

She stumbled to the ground as a bulking man slammed into her. He carried a sword over his shoulder and grinned at her.

"I've love how even when you're about to throw up, you're still beautiful," he said, trapping her staff hand underneath his foot.

"DON'T HOLD BACK BETHANY!" Carver yelled, tackling another thug to the ground.

Varric took aim with Bianca, only for his bolt to hit another mercenary that got in the way. He grinned at the mercenaries approached him. With the pull of a lever, a blade slid out of Bianca's barrel. Varric broke a man's knee with the butt of the crossbow, then proceeded to mercilessly stab him multiple times. Blood spread across the dwarf's coat, but he didn't stop until the man ceased moving. Marian ran to help her sister, only for two men to tackle her. They had abandoned their weapons to pin her to the ground, one sitting on her right arm whilst the other held her left down. She kicked one of the men and grabbed the other's head, biting into his ear. The man screamed like a baby as she tore the appendage off, spitting it into his eyes.

"FUCKING BITCH!" he yelled, kicking her in the chest.

The other mercenary grabbed her by her hair and slammed her head against the ground. Even disorientated, Marian still gathered the strength to grab her dagger and stab the man in the groin. He fell back, nursing the maimed appendage. Marian then sunk her blade into the other man's foot, causing him to cry out again.

"Pretty little Bethany," the hulking man said as he leant his knee into Bethany's shoulder. "We don't want the templars coming when you show off your magic do we?" he asked.

Bethany gathered fire into her hand, only for the man to drive his knee into her stomach. She finally vomited, coating the man's knee.

"Dirty cunt," he snarled. "Look at me, LOOK AT ME!" he yelled, gripping Bethany's chin. "Do one thing for me, and I'll tell Meeran to back off, your sister on the other hand, well you're going to have to convince her to behave, understand?"

Bethany defiantly spat in the man's eye.

'That's my sister, she's no damsel,' Marian thought proudly.

But her heart still sank as the man slapped her, bruising her face. He raised his foot to stomp on her again. But then the man stopped, and he turned his head. Someone else had entered the fight, seemingly unnoticed until then. He wore black armour, with markings across it that formed a demonic figure. The mercenary's eyes drifted towards the lance in the knight's left hand. Suddenly, the knight thrust the weapon forward, tearing it straight through the bigger man's chest. He shoved the mercenary forward, sliding the lance out of his flesh. Then, in a moment that astonished the gang and their victims, the knight twirled the lance into a reverse grip. He threw the lance, sending it flying into the mercenary standing near Marian. It moved so fast that it threw the man back, ripping his pinned foot apart, and pinning him against the wall. The mercenaries stood in shock at the sheer strength the knight had demonstrated.

"I'm guessing one of you is Hawke," the knight said.

Next Chapter 7: Finally meet


The moment you've all been waiting for, the reunion finally occurs, hope the chapter wasn't disappointing.