"No", the giant said simply.
"Well, that's helpful," Alistair said dryly.
Eruestan rubbed his forehead. They had walked way too far just for this.
They had trekked through the forest for days, completely lost. What didn't help matters was the fact that Oghren, who found Morrigan attractive (or, as he put it so eloquently, "really bang-worthy"), kept telling Morrigan just how bang-worthy she was; this prompted Morrigan to tell him how unable to bang he'd be if he kept that up. It really was just like the Blight all over again.
However, by some grace of the Maker's, in a few days they had wandered out of the woods and found themselves at the gates of Amaranthine. They had snuck inside under the cover of night, hoping to buy supplies at the market. However, they had soon run into an old friend.
Eruestan sighed. "Sten, look, I know you have your duty, and your honor, but seriously, we need your help!"
"No," he repeated.
"But—"
"The Sten has spoken, bas!" one of the other Qunari said sharply.
Eruestan threw up his hands. "Rowena, you try! He always liked you!"
Biting her lip, Rowena approached the table Sten was sitting at. Brushing her hair out of her face, she bent down over it…and was promptly pushed out of the way by Sten's men.
"What the—what are you doing?" she said indignantly.
"You are a woman. You should not approach the Sten," one of the soldiers said contemptuously.
"Oh, that's just lovely," Wynne muttered.
Rowena gave the man a death glare. "Would you care to repeat that, ser?" she asked dangerously.
"You are a woman. You should not approach the Sten," he said in a monotone.
Rowena made an attempt to go forward; the men pushed her back again, this time with a bit more force.
"Parshaara," Sten said calmly. "Let her through. She is ashkaari."
Reluctantly, the men stepped aside.
She stepped icily between them and stood firmly before Sten. "Sten, I know this doesn't sound right. Why should you defy the Qun and your country just to involve yourself in the politics of a foreign country?"
Sten nodded.
"But Sten," Rowena said, smiling, "there is a way that this affects you."
No reaction.
"Well—okay, well, Sten, think about it. As king and queen, Alistair and I were always friendly to the Qunari, right? You can't guarantee the same from Anora. So, see? If you help us, you're actually helping Par Vollen, in a way." She stood up, as if sure she had won her point.
"No."
She faltered. "Oh! But, I mean, we could be allies…"
"The Qunari need no allies."
"B-but, in wars—"
"The Qunari have never lost a shok before," Sten said. "They will not in the future."
"Bah! You try," she said irritably to Alistair.
Trying to look casual, he approached the table. "Now, look, Sten—"
"Definitely not," Sten said calmly.
"Oh…damn…" He turned around discontentedly.
Morrigan tried her hand next. "'Tis true, Sten, that I have missed your company," she said sweetly.
He raised an eyebrow.
"I have spent much time wondering what would have occurred had I…accepted your…offer…"
A vague sense of interest lit up in his eyes.
She smiled shyly and looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. "Perhaps we could…explore that outcome?"
Oghren snorted. "Don't getcher hopes up there, pal. This one's colder than a nug out on the Deep Roads."
Eruestan whacked the back of his head. "Not helping!" he hissed.
Regaining her composure, Morrigan battered her eyelashes. "So…shall we be expecting your company?"
He leaned in very close to her. "No," he whispered.
"Blast and damnation!" She moved away haughtily to the other end of the room.
"Are you done?" Sten asked smoothly.
Eruestan gave him a weary look. "Sten, look, we need you too much to just let you go!"
"Why?" Sten asked. "You have Morrigan, Wynne, and the dwarf. Is that not enough for you?"
But we may not have them for long, Eruestan thought desperately. Now that their need for her wasn't urgent, Morrigan kept hinting that she was thinking about leaving. Rowena managed to convince her to stay for a time, at least, but Eruestan was hesitant to trust her for too long. Wynne, while knowledgeable in many magic arts and a powerful healer, was still a little shaky – he didn't want her in action too much. And as for Oghren…well, he apparently had a mission of his own.
When Oghren had sobered up a few days ago, he had explained just what he was doing topside again. He had been selected by the Assembly of Orzammar to investigate the disappearance of a massive amount of lyrium from the dwarven mines. The lyrium, set up for sale for the Chantry, had gone missing a month ago after a team of topsiders had visited the city. Infuriated, King Harrowmont had commissioned Oghren, now a great hero to the dwarves, to go out and track down the culprits. Eruestan suspected that Anora had stolen it, for there were rumors that she was planning to import a large number of mages from Orlais. However, they couldn't be sure, and if they were to come across the thieves, Oghren would be obliged to return to Orzammar with the load.
And so, Eruestan knew that they needed all the help they could gather. There were far too many variables in this plan to leave much to chance.
"Sten, you have to agree that there's a good reason why we want as many people with us as possible," Wynne said pointedly.
"Do all you women talk so?!" Sten's guard said incredulously.
"I really hope I just misheard you," Wynne said coolly.
"Anyway, Sten," Eruestan said hurriedly, "can't you just make some room in your heart, for old time's sake?"
But before the Qunari could answer, Rowena gave a loud gasp from the window.
"What is it?" almost everyone asked, including the laconic guards.
"Look!" she whispered, pointing out into the streets. They peered out to see a whole team of Templars walking through the crowd – with Cullen at their head.
"Maker's breath!" Eruestan swore.
"They're coming right for us," Rowena said nervously.
Alistair turned to Sten. "Do you think you could hold them off for us?"
"Why?"
Everyone stared at him.
Oghren grunted. "Well, this is a twist."
"Are you…betraying us, Sten?" Rowena asked, disbelief written on her face.
He stared at them impassively. "I have a duty in Ferelden given to me by the Arishok himself. I will not do anything that will interfere with that duty. I will let them in. However, I will let you hide yourselves, if you wish."
There was a loud knocking from downstairs. They were cut off.
"I'll take the hiding!" Eruestan announced. Nodding their agreements, the friends raced off into the backroom, leaving the Qunari to their business.
The six of them sat in silence in the backroom, ears pressed to the door. They heard the main entrance open, and heard Sten and Cullen exchange tense pleasantries. The sounds of chairs being dragged across wood floated upstairs.
Eruestan gagged. "Andraste's Grace, what is this room?" he whispered, retching. "It must be the privy or something!"
"Oops," Oghren blushed. "Sorry."
Everyone made silent yet explosive gestures of disgust and began to dash over to the other side of the room. However, the sound of voices quickly stopped them in their tracks.
"So, Ser…"
"You may call me Sten," the Qunari answered gravely.
"Ser Sten." Cullen sounded satisfied. "Now forgive my asking, but haven't we met?"
"Possibly."
"Yes, I think I do know where I've met you. Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you involved with the mage Eruestan Surana and the rebels Alistair and Rowena Therin during the Blight? I believe I made your acquaintance at the Circle Tower, during the abomination attack."
"Yes," Sten said. "You were the weak, frightened man who was raving mad the whole time."
The other Templars in the room snickered. Upstairs, Eruestan whispered, "Sten: 1; Insanity: 0."
Cullen cleared his throat. "Yes, well, times were different then." His voice took on a hard, brittle quality. "Those damn mages tormented me relentlessly during that time. I saw those bastards torture and kill my closest friends. They would leer at me, tell me that I was next, tell me to be a good boy so that I wouldn't ruin their fun. I had to watch them transform people I had known since I was a child into abominations. And then the demons…a Desire demon approached me in the form of a mage I was…fond of. Her image tormented me with something I could never have. You see, Templars aren't allowed to form relationships other than those with the Maker." He laughed cruelly.
Rowena nudged Alistair in the side. "Hear that?" she whispered. "You're breaking the rules."
"Well, then, they shouldn't make the consequences so desirable," he whispered back teasingly.
"You two make me more sick than Oghren's flatulence!" Morrigan snapped.
"Believe me, you haven't had the worst of it," Oghren muttered.
"SH!" Wynne and Eruestan hissed at the same time. They pointed vigorously at the door, as if to remind them all of where they were.
Cullen's voice resumed its calm. "So, naturally, when the Grey Wardens approached my magical cell, I begged them to kill all of my tormentors—even if it meant killing innocents as well. I still stand by my logic: had those mages harbored any spirits, we would have all been killed. However, the mage Eruestan made sure that none of that was going to happen. He and his little party went in and saved the day, and I was released."
Sten frowned. "I know all this, kabethari. I was there, remember?"
Cullen gave another harsh laugh. "Oh, you may have thought you saw it all," he said cruelly, "but you certainly didn't see what was going on in my mind. They were all abominations to me. I begged the Knight-Commander to call for the Right of Annulment, but I was ignored. As you can imagine, I became a little…derailed at that point. My conduct towards those damned spell-casters got me kicked out of the Tower, and I was alone. However, I quickly found a new patron." The sound of a chair being kicked back echoed in the upstairs. "Queen Anora was very interested to have a Templar who hated that sleek, smooth-talking piece of Fade-scum Eruestan Surana as much as she did, and she took me in."
Cullen cleared his throat once more. "Which now brings us to my reason for coming here. It has come to the queen's attention that the former king and queen of Ferelden, along with their mage friend have been roaming the countryside, gaining allies. Naturally, since you were once close associated with the Grey Wardens, she has assumed that they have contacted you. Is this so?"
Silence.
"Ser Sten," Cullen said, a hint of impatience in his voice, "the information I'm asking of you is important to her Majesty and therefore to the realm itself. I ask again, have you heard from any of the Grey Wardens?"
There was an impossibly long paused as the party upstairs held their breaths, unsure whether or not Sten would protect them. Eruestan felt minutes, hours, days pass by. Finally:
"No."
More silence. Then Cullen let out a short laugh.
"He lies," he said calmly, "and therefore he is an enemy to the state. Take him and his men away," he shouted to his guards. "Maybe a few days in the Amaranthine dungeons will jog his memory."
"What the—vashedan!" Sten bellowed as the sounds of metal swarming down on metal filled the room. Alistair and Rowena both made efforts to go and help, but Eruestan jumped forward and held them back. Finally, the sound of struggling downstairs ceased, and they heard to their horror Cullen's triumphant voice shouting, "Take these men back to the castle! The Queen will be proud, men!"
The six of them stood in the downstairs parlor, shocked. Tables and chairs were pushed over, and a bottle of ink was overturned on the floor.
Rowena spun around on Eruestan. "What were you doing back there?!" she shouted. "We could have helped him!"
"She's right," Alistair glared. "Sten defended us when it would have been much easier just to hand us over. That wasn't right!"
Eruestan shook his head. "Come on, you two! You know you're not making sense! Look at us! Three of us are mages, so we're as good as useless. Then we've got Oghren, who isn't exactly the poster child for sobriety – no offense."
"Huh?" Oghren said, scratching himself.
"My point exactly."
Rowena still glowered at him. "Alistair and I could still have helped."
Eruestan looked at her tiredly. "Could you've, Rowena? Look at you. Those Templars are wearing some of the best armor money can buy, and you're wearing the same dress you wore the day we broke you out of prison. Alistair isn't doing any better. You'd both be killed instantly."
Rowena looked like she was going to say something, but then thought the better of it. "Well, maybe you're right. But that doesn't change the fact that Sten needed our help in battle, and we just sat there!"
"But the risk—"
"That doesn't matter, Eruestan! When someone needs you, you help them! Risks be damned!"
"Wena…"Alistair said softly, "you know he was doing what he thought best…"
"No," Eruestan said quietly. "She's right. We should have helped. I'm sorry."
"Don't tell it to me," Rowena said firmly, though not unkindly. "Tell it to Sten."
"What?!"
"You got Sten into this, you get him out."
Eruestan stared at her. "What exactly do you think I did? Light up some sort of sign saying 'Hey Templars! Traitors over here!'"
Rowena stared at him.
"Um, I think you better do this," Alistair said quickly. "The last time she looked like that, she cut someone's lungs out."
Eruestan sighed. This was going to be painful.
It was a long cold night at the castle of Amaranthine. Two guards stood sentinel at a lonely side door. Most of the guards were concentrated towards the front. The two expected an easy night.
"D'ya reckon' those Grey Wardens are gonna come rescue that bloody Qunari?" one of the guards asked.
The other man snorted. "Please, with all these Templars about? They'd have to be completely insaaaaAAAH WHAT IS THAT?!!!"
The man jumped a foot in the air as something rustled on the floor. Drawing his sword, the other soldier bent over and looked. He began to laugh.
"Who's completely insane now?" he chuckled, sheathing his weapon. "Look, it's just a mouse. Don't piss yourself or anything." He wiped a tear from his eye and returned to his post. "Sweet Maker, you looked like Maferath himself had returned from the grave—"
There was a huge flash of light, and a woman appeared from where the mouse had been. Armed with a long staff, she whacked one man over the head, knocked him to the ground, and then speared one in the stomach before either fully knew what was going on.
Morrigan brushed the hair out of her eyes, and then searched the men's bodies for the key to the door. She unlocked it and let the others in.
Alistair and Rowena quickly donned the guards' armor while Wynne, Eruestan, and Oghren smeared mud on their faces. The plan was rather simple – Alistair and Rowena would pretend to escort the two mages and the dwarf to the dungeons. Morrigan would assume her mouse form and run ahead to let them when any guards were coming. From there, Eruestan hoped they'd be able to find Sten.
And after that…Eruestan thought worriedly. Well, I'll think of something.
He quickly pulled out the metal clasp in the back of his hair and undid the braids that met there. Rumpling his hair, he turned to Alistair and asked, "Do I look convincing?"
"You look like Morrigan," he laughed.
"I hope that is a reference to our similar hair colors, and not my personal appearance," Morrigan said tersely.
"Alright," Eruestan said, anxiety in his eyes. He snapped his fingers; metal handcuffs appeared around his, Wynne's, and Oghren's wrists. "Remember, we have to be stealthy. Under no circumstances are we to draw attention to ourselves." Loud snores cut him off. "Andraste's Grace, why is he sleeping here of all places?! Oghren!"
The dwarf snapped up. "Sorry! Sorry!"
Give me strength, Eruestan prayed silently.
The troop moved forward warily. Morrigan took off down the corridor ahead of them. She squeaked three times; Alistair and Rowena closed their visors. Three guards walked around the corner.
"Halt, soldiers," the leading officer said importantly. The entire party stopped. "What have we here?"
"Prisoners, ser," Rowena said quickly, her voice echoing in her helmet. "They were caught stealing in the market just now."
The soldier peered curiously at them. "A human, an elf, and a dwarf? All they need now is a Qunari and they'll have a complete set!" He looked up at them. "You wouldn't happen to be trying to bust those Qunari down there out, would you?"
They all froze.
The man laughed. "Lighten up, there! It was only a joke!"
"O-oh," Rowena said weakly. "A joke. Haha, ser. That was quite funny."
"Ease up there, recruits," the officer said. "Those Qunari are gonna be locked up in there for quite a while." He turned to his men. "All out, troops! To the guard post! Let's see whether or not our men have passed out from boredom!"
"NO!" Alistair gasped.
The guards turned around and stared at him.
"Well, why not?" the officer said sternly.
"Um…well…you see…"
"They're drunk," Eruestan drawled, listing off numerous prayers to various gods in his mind.
Everyone in the room turned around and stared at him.
"Excuse me?" the officer said, startled.
"Completely wasted," Eruestan continued. "Wouldn't know their bottles from their knickers. These two didn't want to tell ya 'cause the others made 'em promise not ta rat 'em out." He chuckled. "I dunno, maybe they thought they'd get sumthing or what to drink 'emselves."
The officer stared at him for a very long time, and then burst into laughter.
"Oh, that's classic!" he chortled, clutching his stomach. "Can't say that I blame them either. Well, men, what say you? Shall we just head to the dining hall and let the others have their fun?" The other guards nodded in agreement. "That's settled, then. Continue, soldiers." Still shaking his head, he led the others down the hall and around a corner.
"That was brilliant," Rowena and Alistair whispered at the same time.
"A little reckless, and incredibly lucky, but yes, rather clever," Wynne said, smiling.
Only Oghren was a little irritated. "Ya shouldn't mess with a man like that," he growled. "Now all I can think about is how good a nice ale would be around now."
They flew down the rest of the halls, listening for Morrigan's squeaks to let them know when any guards were approaching. However, the farther into the castle they went, the less people questioned them as to why they were there. It appeared like the idea of any outsider getting this far in was inconceivable.
Soon, however, they found themselves standing in front of the massive oak door leading to the dungeons below. Morrigan disappeared under the wood.
"Remember, keep your cool," Eruestan whispered. Nodding, Alistair and Rowena each took a deep breath and pushed open the doors.
Around fifteen guards were milling about a large room. The men looked bored and completely unprepared. Eruestan was shocked to see that there were no Templars in the area.
They must really think it's impossible for us to attack, he thought incredulously. I didn't think they'd make this so easy!
A man rose up from the chair he was sitting at and walked in front of them.
"Well, now, what's this?" he asked lazily, holding back a yawn.
"Prisoners, ser," Alistair said. "We have orders to take them to a cell to wait for trial."
"Well, I'll see to that myself. Thank you. You may go." He made motions for his men to take them away.
Alistair quickly held up his hand. "I'm sorry, ser, but we have orders from the captain to take prisoners to their cell personally."
The officer looked at him oddly. "What fool captain told you that?"
"Captain…Smith…"Alistair said, rather unconvincingly.
"Captain Smith? I've never heard of him," the officer said suspiciously.
"Well, that's because…he's from Orlais."
Eruestan groaned inwardly.
"Captain Smith? From Orlais?"
"He's…um…"
The man stared at him, then shrugged. "Whatever. Damned Orlesian language never made sense anyway. Men! Escort these soldiers to the dungeons."
Four soldiers begrudgingly got up from their card game. They led the group down a long network of interconnected hallways. Clearing his throat, Alistair began to strike up a conversation.
"So, what are those Qunari like?" he asked nervously.
One of the men laughed. "Those giants? Not half of what the stories say. They didn't even put up a fight! Just sat there and accepted what was happening to them!"
"They didn't struggle? Why not?" Alistair asked.
"Do I look like I know?! Personally, I'm glad they didn't – those things could have torn us apart if they hadn't been as weak as kittens."
Rowena gave a very visible (and very rehearsed) shudder.
"Aw, is the little lady scared?" the man asked condescendingly.
"N-no," she said bravely, although she looked a little jumpy. "It's just…they're so large!" She looked around as if startled by something; there was no one there. "Where are they being locked up? I hope it's somewhere safe!"
The men laughed. "Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. You'll give yourself nightmares. If you must know, the Qunari cell is just down that hallway to the right."
"Lovely." She gave a small nod to Eruestan. He quickly muttered a small spell that bathed the area in silence.
Suddenly, Rowena grabbed the man closest to her by the neck, swept his legs out from under him, and stabbed him through his armor with a tiny dagger. Before the others had time to react, Alistair ran another man through with his sword as Rowena butterfly-kicked a third into oblivion. One last guard opened his mouth to sound the alarm—however, he found it difficult to cry after Alistair decapitated him.
Stealthily, Rowena snuck down the hallway to the corridor where Sten's cell was. Two guards were keeping watch, looking bored out of their minds. She chucked two throwing knives at them, watching with satisfaction as the fell to the ground without a cry. Behind her, Eruestan snapped his fingers once more; the metal surrounding the "captives" hands lost its form, becoming a free-flowing liquid. Carefully balancing it through mid-air, he approached Sten's cell and coaxed the metal inside the lock. With a stiffening of his fingers, the metal solidified, forming a makeshift key. He burst open the door.
Sten sat alone on the floor, his face bleeding. His clothes were tattered, and on his back the open wounds of a whip could be seen.
"Sten!" Wynne gasped. She ran forward, hands thrust in front of her. Sten was suddenly enveloped in a blue glow that made his injuries vanish.
Rowena entered the room cautiously. "Sten! Thank the Maker! But where are the others?"
"Dead," he said quietly.
"WHAT?!" She (along with everyone else) was shocked. "But, Sten, how? Why??"
"They were tortured," he said. "They wouldn't give in. They were killed."
Eruestan dropped to his knees. "Sten, I-I c-can't…I d-don't even know what to say..."
"I will join you," he said calmly.
"B-but, b-but…" Eruestan looked completely thrown off. "Sten, your men were all tortured to death!"
"Exactly. I want—"
"Revenge," Rowena said quietly. Rowena knew all about revenge. She herself had been consumed by it five years ago, when a friend of her father's had betrayed him and killed her entire family. Rowena had not rested until she herself slit the man's throat.
She helped Sten to his feet. "Well, there you go."
"There is one thing I need, though."
Oh, please don't be the sword, Eruestan pleaded silently. Please don't let it be the damned sword! We just need to get out of here!
"My sword. The Templar took Asala away from me and locked it in his chambers."
Blast!
"Sten, I don't know if we'll have the—"
"I'll get it," Morrigan said.
"Oh, that's nice of WHAT?!!"
"Do not act so surprised," Morrigan said coolly. "I am, after all, a human. Besides, it is to all our benefits that Sten has his sword, and I am quite certain that I am the only one with a chance of getting past all the guards unnoticed."
Eruestan let out a huge breath. "Morrigan, this is…really unexpected. And potentially really stupid."
"I shant be gone long," she said calmly. She closed her eyes, focusing intensely. Suddenly, a bright yellow light enveloped her, and she shrunk back into her mouse form.
Rowena bent down over her. "Be careful, alright?"
"Yeah," Alistair said ruefully. "Try not to get eaten by any cats or anything." He seemed rather taken with the idea.
Eruestan watched her run down the hallway, past the corpses of the dead guards. "You're all trying to get me killed, aren't you?"
Morrigan raced down the hallway, hidden in the shadows. Stopping in a corner, she reached out with her magic to try and locate the Templar's quarters. The castle was a hotbed of energy – all except for one room directly above her, which was deathly still.
Just the type of environment for a Knight Templar.
She raced down the hallway, almost being crushed by an elven servant who wasn't watching where he was going. Skidding around the corner, she found herself at the foot of a large flight of stairs. Thinking quickly, she concentrated and transformed into a fly.
Buzzing up the stairs, she landed on the wall and surveyed the scene. This hallway was completely different from the one below. Everything was still; no servants wandered around, no guards lazed about. Suspicious, Morrigan flew over to the door of the silent room. It was cracked open; she flew warily through.
It was a very nicely furnished room. Orlesian paintings, Antivan furniture, Nevarran carpeting…it was not typical Ferelden décor. However, all Morrigan could see was the giant sword sitting on the table in the center of the room.
With the characteristic flash of yellow light, Morrigan resumed her human shape and picked up the sword…or at least tried to. It was extremely heavy.
"Perchance I can make it lighter," she mused.
"Oh, that won't be necessary," a behind her said.
She whirled around to see Cullen standing by the door, sword drawn. She started and pulled out her staff.
"Oh, there's no need for that," Cullen said calmly. "In case you haven't noticed, mage, I'm a Templar. Your magic is useless against—"
Morrigan whacked him in the head with her staff. With a stunned cry, he fell to the ground. Muttering the strange words her mother had taught her, Morrigan grabbed Sten's sword. It was now light as a feather. However, voices from outside the door quickly reminded her that the fight was only halfway won. Thinking quickly, she threw open the armoire and pulled out a suit of armor.
Coming out of the room, she ran right into a pair of guards. One of them peered closely at her now-helmeted head.
"Wait a minute—do I know you?"
With a cry, Morrigan clutched his face firmly. He suddenly began to scream as his flesh blistered at her touch. The other guard, horrified, drew his sword. However, she quickly concentrated and blinked. The man's sword transformed into a wriggling, deadly viper that promptly turned on its master.
The guard in her grasp stopped struggling, his face now almost unrecognizable. Without looking back, Morrigan took off once more.
As she raced down the stairs, Morrigan vaguely wondered how she was possibly going to fool the guards this time. However, she soon saw this wouldn't be necessary.
Cullen appeared in the doorway, his head bleeding from where Morrigan had struck him. "Men!" he cried. "After that mage!"
The collected soldiers stood up confusedly, unsure of which mage their leader was talking about – all they could see was a fellow guard. Morrigan used this to her advantage, casting a stunning spell that knocked all the guards unconscious. Blasting down with her staff, she sent out a shockwave that sent everyone flying. With a roar, Cullen jumped down the stairs, his sword aloft.
"By the name of the Maker, I will strike you down!" he shouted.
Morrigan smiled grimly. Bring it on.
Down in the dungeons, Eruestan was a nervous wreck.
"What is she going to do against Templars?" he said worriedly, pacing back and forth along the cell. "She's going to get caught, and then we're going to get caught, and then we're all going to die, and Anora and her evil spawn will rule Ferelden forever and—"
"Eruestan!" Rowena said sharply. "Morrigan will be fine. She knows better than to get herself caught."
Alistair perked up suddenly. "Do you hear something?" he said curiously.
They all fell silent.
"Yes," Eruestan said slowly. "It sounds almost like—BATTLE!"
With a jolt, everyone in the room raced out. Once in the hallway, the sounds of swordplay filled the air. Pushing their way out of the dungeons, they saw to their horror Morrigan locked in one-on-one combat with Cullen. She swiped her staff at his legs; he jumped over it and slashed out with his sword. With a cry, Morrigan clutched at her arm, which began to spray blood.
"Morrigan!" Rowena cried. She ran forward, her own sword drawn.
Cullen drew his attention from Morrigan for one brief moment.
Big mistake.
Without even blinking, she sent a huge ball of magical force flying at him. It walloped into him, sending him flying backwards into a wall. With a groan, he collapsed in a heap. It didn't look like he'd be waking up for a while.
Eruestan raised a fist to cheer…and quickly lowered it when he saw a whole squadron of Templars running down the hallway.
"RUN!" he told the others. As they fled towards the back exit, Eruestan pointed his fingers to the ceiling and muttered ancient Tevinter words. With a blinding flash of light, a ball of energy ripped into the ceiling, blocking the hallway and covering the room in dust. Roars from the other side let him know that he had been successful. However, just as he was about to gloat, a gloved hand burst through the rubble.
"Ok, time to go," he muttered wildly to himself. He took off down the hallway to follow his companions.
As the group trudged through the streets of Amaranthine, Rowena tapped Eruestan on the shoulder.
"Hey," she said, a gentle look on her face. "I just wanted to thank you for coming up with this whole plan. I mean, I know Sten won't be thanking you anytime soon, so I figured it was better to hear it from me than no one at all."
"I just can't believe it worked," Eruestan said wearily. He shook his head. "Rowena, I think I'm getting too old for this!"
She smiled. "Oh yes, the ripe old age of 23!"
"That's easy for a 22-year-old to say," he joked.
Oghren's voice interrupted them. "Hey, Hotstuff. Ya dropped sumthin'."
"If this is some horrendous pick-up line, you lecherous creature, I swear I'll—"
"Keep yer panties on," he snarled. "Ya dropped this piece of paper."
"It is from this armor. I care not for it."
"What does this even…well, butter me up and call me a Paragon!"
"What is it, Oghren?" Eruestan asked curiously.
"A lead, that's what it is! Look!"
He thrust the paper into Eruestan's hands. Even though the lighting was terrible, he could dimly make out what it said:
Dear Ser Templar,
Her Majesty wishes to inform you that your request for a share of our exploits from Orzammar has been denied. The Queen feels that the mages she is soon to be supporting express a greater need for the lyrium than her Templars.
So dreadfully sorry to be the slightest inconvenience.
Arlon deChaubliss, First Enchanter of the Orlesian Circle of Magi
"So Anora is responsible after all," Eruestan said, satisfied.
"Looks like I know where I'm headed," Oghren said gruffly. "I reckon you're the only people who can get me to that whore before the Assembly calls for my bum on a grill."
"Good to have you aboard, Oghren."
Smiling, Eruestan looked about the company.
Maker, it was just like the Blight all over again. Except for one huge exception.
But that was to come next. He couldn't think about that now. If he thought about it too much, he wouldn't be able to bear it.
Even still, as he closed his eyes to sleep in some seedy inn, only one face and only one name flashed through his mind.
Leliana, here I come, he thought dreamily as he slipped into the Fade.
