Rastaban Mahariel spoke rarely. Usually satisfied with a glare or a flared nostril, the Dalish elf had a tendency to keep his thoughts to himself. A pity, because if Adele's memory served her correctly, he had a beautiful speaking voice.

"I hardly understand why we need to fulfill these treaties of old," he said suddenly. His words were a break in the monotony of travel, so everyone turned their attentions to him. "We have been gathering quite the clandestine army, picking up stragglers in nearly every town we stumble through."

The runes of his people started at his temple and spanned across his forehead and dipped down beyond the bridge of his nose. Adele wondered what he had to do to earn those tattoos, wondered what life must have been like for him. Maybe if things had played out differently, she too would have had foliage scrawling across her brow as a permanent reminder of her heritage.

Edgar laughed and Adele tried not to jump out of her skin.

"If you don't see the necessity of these treaties, you are free to leave," Nema snapped.

That ended the discussion for the time being, but Rastaban had a point. In the weeks following the attack on the Circle of Magi, their party had been growing disproportionately large. First Wynne had joined them, with the foul-mouthed mage Donal Amell close on her heels. While Sten and Faeron Aeducan were set on making their way to the Frostback Mountains and Orzammar, the group was first sidetracked by the assassin Zevran Arainai and then a golem hunt where they collected Shale.

So with seven Grey Wardens, two mages, an apostate, a bard, a noblewoman, a qunari warrior, assassin, golem and dog, tempers were becoming frayed and food stores were dwindling. Sten and Faeron were becoming increasingly tight-lipped and angry as they neared the Frostback Mountains, while Leliana would chatter on about restocking supplies. Even Frannie Brosca's calm exterior had given way to an excitable energy that Adele hadn't seen before.

She didn't know how she would react if they had to return to the Alienage in Denerim. She couldn't wait to run to her father's arms like a child, yes, but then what? Adele doubted she would have the strength to return to the Wardens if she saw him again, to muster the bravery to do what was needed of her. She twisted the wedding band on her finger; how strange was it, to lack the words to explain just how far out of her depth she truly was? One glance to her comrades told Adele that they were worried, tired and frustrated, but not a single one looked as lost as she felt.

"Bounty hunters." Zevran's voice interrupted her troubled thoughts. Adele found it gut-wrenchingly comical that she felt more at ease around an assassin than the majority of her new allies simply due to the shape of his ears. The Antivan elf had tried to kill them, yet years of experience in the Alienage taught her to trust him but to be skittish around humans like Edgar or Alistair. Zevran tsked and with a shake of his head, he gestured towards the thugs gathering in front of them. "So sloppy. They do not even try to hide their presence. Let's reward their cockiness, no?"

Zevran was already diving headlong into the fray before Adele could even nod. He would have to if he wanted any chance of participating in the attack. There had been so much misinformation and rumors in the days after Ostagar that Loghain hadn't been sending the numbers required to squash any resistance. Adele was convinced, partly because Zevran had said as much himself, that he had prepared for a group of no more than two Wardens and a mage and had only two Wardens and a mage walked into his trap, he would have killed them with little difficulty.

As it was, Sten was cutting through a mage without hesitation while Faeron swung his sword at the leader of the bounty hunters before Zevran could even sink his knives into the closest thug. It was a little disconcerting how rarely Adele had to fight due to how much more eagerly some of her companions craved it. She arrived too late to be of any real help, and all she got for her efforts was a spray of warm blood across her face as Zevran slashed one of the bounty hunters' throats.

Morrigan, Silfee and Shale made their way forward casually. They didn't even bother unsheathing their weapons as they glanced, bored, at the carnage.

"So these are the Frostback Mountains?" Silfee mused. "They looked so attractive when we were farther from the mountain's base."

"An apt metaphor for you, then?" Rastaban muttered it so quietly that Adele stared at him a moment to convince herself that he actually uttered the words.

Silfee laughed. "Hush. Look, the qunari is shaking down a merchant!"

"Where is my sword?" Sten was big. Adele knew he was big. But she had never really considered just how big until she saw him lift up a man by his throat and roar into his face. Chester the dog sat at the qunari's heels and wagged his tail.

The merchant was in a full state of panic, all flailing arms and purple faced. "I- I don't have it! I swear by Andraste's knickers! I sold it on the way here!"

Sten pulled the other man's face to his so that every syllable of his rage was for the merchant alone. "Where is it?"

"A dwarf near Redcliffe! Dwyn, I think his name was." The merchant's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fainted.

Sten opened his hand and the other man fell with a thud. "Useless." He turned around and started back down the mountain. Adele scrambled after him.

"Wait!" She called out. "Where are you going? We need to go to Orzammar."

"Do I?" His pace didn't slow.

"Is your sword really that important?"

"Yes."

Adele glanced back at the group and then again at Sten's retreating form. Her insides twisted. "Don't go alone."

That stopped him. Sten turned around and silently stared at her. Adele swallowed hard. As Sten started to walk away again, she called out, "Let me go with you."

He paused once more, but didn't look back at her. "Then come."

"Where are we going?" Edgar sounded out of breath as he jogged over to them. Behind him, Chester barked.

Adele opened her mouth, but looking at the human the words wouldn't come. Edgar was handsome, just like Vaughan had been handsome. She pointed a thumb to Sten.

"Redcliffe," Rastaban said.

"You too?" Adele asked.

"If our group is as talented as they claim, they don't need so many of us in Orzammar." The Dalish glowered at Nema at the head of the group and who had already continued her climb up the mountain. "I would be more useful in the wilderness than underground."

"Fantastic!" Edgar clapped a hand around Rastaban's shoulder. "We'll go to Redcliffe to reclaim a sword of truthiness, then!"

Chester barked and wagged his tail. Sten snorted, but said no more. Adele followed quietly, a timid shadow.