Sorry about missing last week - had some bad news to process.


Well, as unnerving as an empty castle is, with all the quiet... it does let one find neat stuff in peace. Like the side corridors, where they make deliveries so the main rooms aren't blocked, which also lead to the kitchen back entrances most cooks don't bother watching. Or how to slip the pantry doors open with a paw. You gotta know the secret angle, but it's all golden once you find it.

I take another sniff.

It would be golden, I mean; if it weren't Orlesian food. If Lady Goat's right about trade hassles on the road, I guess we better get out there and handle it. Get some proper food in here. And in my belly. I mean, that shelf smells like snails or something. Maybe we can trick Braids into eating slugs, but it's probably better to just hurl that shit into the offal pit. Orlesians are weird – they eat garden pests, and adopt bogles as pets. Or was that just Chirpy's particular peculiarity?

Regardless, I abandon the smell of dried snails to get some fresh air. Oh, right. I guess Scruffy hasn't cleaned the Darkspawn blood from this walkway. I suppose nobody would be coming up here just yet, so he focused on making blood soup. Is that a Kirkwall thing, like chewing snails? Why are everyone but Fereldans insane? Is it because they don't have Mabari, to guide them to enlightenment?

Their hounds are... what did she say? 'Tiny, bred to fit under your arm.' No wonder the poor bastard went mad and bit anyone who wandered past. And calling him Bon Bon would have tipped him from madness to raging lunacy... I bet they fed him nothing but snails, too!

This bloodstain was the verbosity Darkspawn, I think. So, talky magic Darkspawn... how does that even work? Did they get some nattering old woman Mage to teach them, and she neglected to tell them when to shut up? … Holy shit, we better check on Fusspot! They might have taken her, she fits the description too much! She never knew when to shut up, herself. But she's got Rumble with her, right? I'm sure she's fine. Hang on... when they all came back, from hunting Braids' wife. All that talk about Darkspawn getting women pregnant. I try to not think about that shit, if it's true... but maybe these ones inherited proper speech. But why didn't any of the others we've seen before now?Wait... if the theory is even true, then how can Genlocks do magic?! They'd be half-Dwarf, right? Dwarves don't do magic! Thus, they aren't Dwarves. In your face, Fusspot! I just completely sank your stupid theory. Which proves Darkspawn don't kidnap women for broodmares, so I don't have to worry about picturing that in a nightmare. Stupid old cow. I bet she said that just to freak me out.

Whatever. This balcony is boring, when there's nothing up here to fight; except one's doubts and unease. Let's get back inside, and see what's happening, with Team Max. Hmm – should I still call us that, now that the group is only Wardens? I didn't like calling us 'The Wardens', back in the Blight because all our friends, and Qunie, weren't Wardens but still helped us plenty. It belittled their efforts. But I guess now we can be the Grey Wardens? The Grey Warriors? Since everyone but Scruffy is a Warrior? But it might still be impolite, since we've got the troops and those three advisors. Lady Goat can go eat a boot, for all I care, and the Guard Captain was apparently taking a snooze during the attack... but Old Man is a decent chap. Shouldn't be rude to him... okay, then! We're still Team Max!

The Advisers Three were back in that room, I saw Nail from the balcony, so I guess he's still out in the courtyard with the soldiers... sounds like someone's in the kitchen? I push my way in.

"Ha! Here's the crunchy things!" Braids takes out a tray of them, and sits down. Hey, you should know those are... actually, do eat them. They are totally not slugs...

"You want a snail, mutt?" he asks, noticing me. "You prefer raw stuff, right? And crunchy? They're crunchier, the less they're cooked."

Yeah – not on your life.

He scoffs at my faux-gagging. "You should try expanding your tastes. Felsi got me to adopt a more nourishing diet, and it improved my sodding vitality!" Well, look who finally learned to read the tool-tips! Good for you, but I only get the Talent window so I couldn't spec Skill points for Improved Vitality even if I wanted to... whoops! Sorry, everyone! I mean: She got you to eat better, huh? Nice – but if you're here now, you guys aren't together anymore? That's a shame.

"A man's got to look after himself. Healthy mind, healthy body, dog! Those Orlesians may have been poncy nug-sniffers, but they know their food!"

You're out of your mind! I'm leaving.

"Go check on the boss, too!" he shouts after me. I'm almost to the hall, when I realise. If he's awake, then Ree will be, as well! Let's go!

Bursting into the hall, I spin about to check every corner, and notice him at the table. Scruffy! Where are they?

He looks up, from a parchment. "... I think she went down that way" he points. What are you moping about, you sadsack? The Joining's done, so let's all get some food! Non-snail food. "Hopefully she'll talk to you."

Whatever, idiot. You keep being glum, while we celebrate. Non-snail food! I can't emphasise that enough.


I follow the hallway Scruffy showed me. I think I hear Nail.

"... what else to say? She accepted-"

"Shut up, already" I faintly hear Mistress whisper. Hey, Mistress! I wander in, and glare at Nail. Is this arsehole bothering you? Say the word, and I'll chase him out.

I'm not sure she noticed me, staring at the rug like that, so I plop a paw on her knee. Still no reaction? Ree, do you know what's up? Where is Ree, anyway? Her helmet's on that desk, so she must have come in here. I doubt she could fit under the bed, with Mistress sitting on it, so is she in the wardrobe? I didn't think she acted that dumb, but you never know.

I rest my head on Mistress' knee, and she finally puts a hand on my neck, but it feels more like a reflex response. Mistress... you're starting to worry me. Where's Ree?

"Max." Yes, I'm Max. And you're my Mistress, so talk to me already! Where is she?!

She chokes something back, and rubs my ear. "... No." That's not an answer! Just tell me she's fine, and I'll believe you! Say it!

"I'll handle it, if you want. I just thought you should know" Nail offers, breaking the silence.

"... Why are they locked up?" she replies, still whispering.

"He broke in a few nights back. 'Took four Wardens to capture him, and he gave one a black eye.' Sounds tough" Nail comments. Sounds like he needs a rope! If he hadn't injured them, they might have fought well enough to survive the raid. For all we know, the Darkspawn got in through a door he broke open!

Mistress groans, and pushes us both to our feet. "Fine. I'll get my dagger, and go down."

"You decided that, quick?"

She angrily grabs her weapons, and shoves past him without a word. I'll go with her, Nail. She'd be making the right call, even if Ree... shit. She really is dead, isn't she?! I follow her, through the corridors.

She stiffens up, when we hear Braids screaming from the main hall. What now? "Pants that eat your eyeballs!" suddenly echoes down the corridor.

Fucking hell, he's drunk already? It's not even noon! … And I only saw him barely ten minutes ago. So much for his healthier living.

We enter the room, and spot Braids in the corner. By the keg, of course. Scruffy leans in and says something to him. "That Jacob's gonna pay, when I get my hands on him!" Braids shouts again.

Mistress seems to bristle, as we pass them. "Trouble, boss?" Braids asks.

"Just an execution. I'll handle it" she responds, sounding like she had to force it out.

Looking back, I notice Scruffy sigh and walk back to the table. Is he still going over that parchment? Must be hard to figure out, whatever it is.

"... Leave it, kid" I hear from Braids, as the door swings shut behind us. "They said there's no way to know..."


We reach the courtyard, and a soldier steps out in front. I get the feeling she wants to say something, but Mistress cuts her off. "Dungeons?"

"That way" she answers, holding up some papers. "I have messages for you, Commander."

"Later" Mistress replies, heading across the courtyard.

Wait, the dungeon is just a shack outside the Keep? Man, the design for this place is dumb. We get inside, and a guard greets us. Not even a basement prison! Idiots.

"Ah, Commander! Good men died, while this one was locked up safe in his cell." I knew it! Twas his fault after all. I'll fetch a rope.

"And you didn't execute him already?" Mistress coldly asks, as we walk.

"They said it was your decision, Commander. Technically, he's only a thief..." Fine – we stick him in a crow's cage then. That's what they did to the thief at Ostagar.

We're almost to the bars, when Mistress suddenly stops dead. "... Leave us" she orders after a moment, eyes locked on the prisoner.

The guard bows, and walks off. Is everything alright, Mistress? You seem even odder, now.

The thief glares up, as she gets closer to the cell. "If it isn't the great hero. Conqueror of the Blight and vanquisher of all evil..." Well, I don't think all evil can ever be stopped. Abstraction is an endless foe. But Mistress is still pretty amazing. She locks her feet in place, and stares him down. He scoffs a second time. "Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall, with lightning bolts coming out of your eyes?!" Okay, now you're being stupid... you'd burst your eyeballs doing that! And then Braids' pants-monsters or whatever would get hungry and rip you apart in anger.

"I haven't grown that much, while you were gone..." she answers, sounding carefully neutral. Yeah! Don't let this jerk get to you, whoever the hell he is. "Nathan." Who? "Despite what they say about me, in the taverns."

"They make you sound like Moira, reborn" he snarls. Who the hell is Mo... wait, no. He said 'Moira', not 'Morag'. Hear that, Mistress? You're up there with the Rebel Queen! Personally, I think you're even better, but I'm probably biased. "I, however, know you best as my father's murderer!"

Yeah, that doesn't sound as good. But everyone we killed was an arsehole, so your father no doubt had it coming, jerk. Deal with it!

"He brought it on himself" she curtly replies. Told you, moron!

"My father fought against the Orlesians!" So did everyone else back then! It doesn't make him special, whoever the fuck he was. That stopped being an excuse for Toenail's bullshit, so your idiot father definitely can't use it anymore! "And yet we lost everything... I came here to kill you, I thought" he fires back. Okay, fuck the crow's cage and the rope. I'm gonna get Braids to chop his stupid head off! He's still got the axe we took off of Chief Crazy's body, up in the Murdertown caves. That'll behead anyone in one go. Nobody threatens Mistress while I'm here! He leans back against the wall, defeated. "But I realised I just want some of my family's things. That's all I have left."

Why the hell would your stuff be here, anyway? Who even is this arsehole? Mistress, you seem to know him! I get closer, and give him a proper stare. Ugly looking bastard, isn't he? And he's lazy – he stopped shaving when he was almost done. That's not even a good style, buddy. In fact, it makes you look like... wait. Wait just a damned minute, here! I must have growled in realisation, because Mistress forces me back with one foot. Well, shit. You're Toadface's mystery kid! Let me bite his butt before we drag him to the chopping block, Mistress! I swore a vague notion that I would, if he ever showed his face!

Mistress steps back a little, as well, and begins to pace. "I suppose he wouldn't have bothered taking your things, to Denerim."

"... Look, I don't know what happened with your family. It sounded horrible." Nice suger-coating, prick! "I imagine the entire Blight was. But his actions made us all pariahs. I couldn't even find out what happened to my brother and sister. We don't deserve this."

That stops Mistress in her tracks. She glances down at her dagger, and back at the cell, just as footsteps approach. The guard and Old Man join us.

"So this is the prisoner, then?" Old Man notes. You worked with Toadface, right? Well, take a close look...

Mistress does her little nervous shaking thing, with her fingers. "... Have the guards escort him to the cellars, and let him retrieve what he wishes. Then release him outside the grounds."

What?

"What?"

"What?!"

Yeah, see? Even Old Man and Little Toadface don't believe what you just said!

"Commander! I must object! You wish to let a thief keep what he stole?" That's not even the fucking issue here!

"You can't steal what's yours" she answers. "Varel, take a closer look at him."

Old Man peers in, and shakes his head. "... That's more reason not to release him!" Thank you! This is stupid!

"You do know I'll probably come back here" Little Toadface asks in shock. "They may not stop me, next time." You just said you didn't want to kill her! Pick a fucking story and stick to it, moron. Or do you want to be executed? Because I'm all for that idea; let's make it happen.

"Then you better make your first strike count" Mistress sighs. "Even the Archdemon only got one chance." She fingers the Warden amulet around her neck. "Go live your life, instead. Too many people can't..."

Shaking his head, the guard opens the cell. "Come on, then..." Make sure you bring more than four guys, this time.

As he's being unshackled, Mistress looks over. "Do you remember how to get to the market district, in Amaranthine?"

"Past the Chantry, and around a few corners? I'm sure the noise gives it away" Little Toadface answers, warily.

"True... " she says, wearily. "I'm not sure if there's more than one, but ask for the blacksmithy where Albert works. It was near the middle of the market."

"I don't know any Albert?" Shut up and let her finish!

"When you find it, ask to see Lilith" Mistress adds. "I don't think Delilah's gone back to using her name in public, yet."

He shoots Mistress a look of disbelief, before Guard shoves him to move. Old Man follows them out, while Mistress remains still. Or not – she's starting to shake.

Mistress?

"... Can you go guard the door, Max? I - I think I need a minute alone."

Right you are.