For Sathaeri, who thought it would be funny. And it is.

Author's Note: Hello, my squishy pigeons! Back again with Sergeant Kylon, so everyone send a thank-you to Sathaeri if you like this chapter.

Converts! Story Alerts/Favorites now welcomes MeltIntoWords, Alissa Cousland, Panda Jinx, Sasse1892, HollyIsMyName, and Lady Epicness.

And Author Alerts/Favorites has added Kodama91, SgtGinger, allerti, DragonEffectIII, ilmiopassato(squeee!), Lady Epicness again, and ..snow (my numbah one stalker!).

The biggest thanks go to the reviewers, old and new. You guys get me writing again after months on hiatus. Murphy Annen Thiamine, my cinnamon bun! I'll always come back...eventually. Zute, Hawke IS both and Andraste and a desire demon. It explains everything. Toki, snow mistress, darling, why do they always make the sexy Scottish ones chaste? And Zeeji, thank you! Every verse of the Chant was found on the Dragon Age Wiki. Bless their souls.

The first time it happened, he chalked it up to bad luck. He was understaffed anyway, so even an idiot guard was better than no guard at all. He let it pass, and put young Charles Fitzgerald-Chucks, to his friends-in a uniform.

But then Bann Hubert came to see him the next day, dragging young Fitzhubert behind him and asking for a favor.

It was all downhill from there.

Six months later Kylon was sitting at his desk, staring at a duty roster full of Fitz and wondering how many times he could bang his head on said desk before brain damage set in.

He started calling them The Bastards.

And when Willy Fitzhenry accidentally broke into the wrong house to retrieve a suspect, and Rob Fitzwilliam was discovered to have written the arrest warrant for "being a smartass", and the suspect was found sharing a pint with Tom Fitzthomas...

Well, after that incident, he began calling them The Ignoramus Bastards.

It was amazing, truly amazing, how many times they could get an order wrong before they discovered the correct action. Kylon had once reminded Chucks to take care of his armor, and the lad had dumped it in the infirmary. Arnie Fitzpatrick was told to stop spitting on the ground and had taken to using his helmet as a spittoon. And Rob could never be persuaded-no matter how often you yelled or how hard you smacked him-that someone "acting like a smartass" was not a punishable offence.

At least there was a method to their investigative work, although the method was very questionable itself.

Upon receiving their orders to search for and bring in whatever criminal was wanted that day, the lot of them would stroll over to the Pearl and conduct a very intensive search that lasted for hours, if not the whole day. They justified this with the one time that Willy had accidentally pinched the bottom of their wanted man, who was in disguise and trying to lay low at the Pearl.

It should be mentioned that Sergeant Kylon's desk had a deep denting in it, about the same size and shape of the Sergeant's forehead.

So when the wanted poster came from the palace asking for Grey Wardens, alive or dead-specifically the two depicted in rough sketches on the poster-the Sergeant settled his forehead into its usual place on the desk and prepared for a good round of thunking.

Just how, exactly, did the idiots in charge expect him to apprehend two Grey Wardens when he had even bigger idiots working for him? Still, to show willing he sent a request for more men. Preferably ones with more experience, or ones that at least knew how to hold a sword properly.

To his surprise, Arl Howe sent a dozen men three days later. A week after that, at least half of them were in lockup.

"Maker, why?" He asked the market district at large. "Why am I plagued with both the stupidest and most corrupt bastards in all of Thedas? What did I do wrong? Trespass on the Black City? Set the torch to Andraste's pyre? Cheat at cards?"

"Sergeant-" Someone tapped at his shoulder.

He whirled. "WHAT?"

A man and woman, both kitted out in heavy armor and weapons of finer make than he'd ever seen, and a certain look in their eyes that meant that they knew how to kill. They matched their wanted poster quite well, actually. But behind them stood a mage, likely an apostate with that getup, and a pretty redhead with a longbow as tall as she was. The poster had failed to mention that.

Ah well, he thought, at least they aren't bastards.

Of course, it was a little later, at the coronation in fact, before Sergeant Kylon learned that that day he had met Alistair FitzTherin, Grey Warden and bastard son of the king.

Well, at least he wasn't an idiot bastard.