Hey guys! No I'm not dead. Just life doing its thing. I've been super busy getting ready for a baby. Yep, that's right. And if this chapter is a little tedious to read, it was rather tedious to write, but it had to be done in order to get things going.

Melysande: I don't like Eamon either, hence why I am so mean to him throughout the story.

Larryeneno: Sorry to say it, but it's still going to be a little before discovering who the culprit is behind the kidnapping plot.

Guest: Sorry for the long absence, but at least there is another chapter!

Just a Reader: I do have ideas for how things will connect to DAII. As far as Inquisition goes, I CAN'T WAIT TO PLAY IT! I WANTS IT SO BAD! Then I can see how things connect with that one.

Guest: Updating!

Fireplay: I'm not yet dead! It's getting better!

Dalish-Mage: Glad you approve of my Eamon bashing because I will continue to do so. He's an ass. And I'm glad you like Dianna and Maggie! I try my best to make them seem like real people rather than annoying, predictable OC's.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"This is so frustrating!" Fergus shouted, swinging his arm across the length of his desk, shoving everything that sat on it onto the floor, "We've been at this for days and we still don't know where to even start looking! There is no telling plans were first made and someone just waited for an opportunity to arise to make a move."

"My Lord, losing your temper now isn't going to help matters," Eamon said calmly.

In an attempt to calm himself down Fergus took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Eamon was right though, throwing a fit wouldn't do anything to find those responsible for the kidnapping. However, Eamon could have been putting more effort into their search. Fergus assumed Eamon's dislike for Dianna and her family didn't help matters. That also made it odd that Eamon even offered in the first place to help.

"And just what might you suggest that will help?" Fergus asked tersely.

Eamon sighed, "I'm not sure anything will help at this point if we can't find any clues from the contract itself. Hired killers typically give themselves a name, like the Crows, and one would think it'd be somewhere on that document."

Fergus picked the contract off the ground, waving it in the air as he said, "We've been over this thousands of times already! There's nothing of the sort on there. We don't even know where it originated from, whether here in Highever, or elsewhere."

Slamming the paper onto his desk Fergus sat, dropping his head against his clasped hands. He was close to just giving up on the search and just continue on with his life, but he couldn't let that dark cloud hang over him and Dianna, that somewhere someone was still looking for a way to get rid of her.

"How about getting yourself some supper," Eamon suggested, "You've been at this for hours and skipped lunch, some food will do you some good."

Fergus nodded in agreement as his stomach growled. He was hungry and perhaps a short break would help. What Fergus really needed though was someone who worked in that sort of business to help him track down the kidnappers. If that elfin assassin was still around he would have been a great help, but Fergus hadn't seen him since they parted ways after saving Dianna and he doubted he would see him again.

More days had passed and Fergus had to put off the search in order to work on the growing amount of paperwork on his desk. A solid week he had been looking for a lead and found nothing so he decided some dull paperwork could help clear his mind. Half the day passed with no interruptions until lunchtime. Hearing the study door open Fergus glanced up to see who it was, expecting it being Eamon or a servant bringing him lunch. He was pleasantly surprised to find it was neither.

"Dianna," he said as he stood up, knocking his chair over, "I wasn't expecting you."

"I know," Dianna said, setting down a tray covered with food, "but I haven't seen you in a week. I was starting to miss you."

"You didn't walk here by yourself did you?" Fergus asked in concern. He was definitely still on high alert when it came to Dianna's safety.

Dianna rolled her eyes, "No, Dad walked me up here. Really though Fergus do you expect me to stay at my house like it's my prison and only leave with an armed escort?"

"I hoped the issue could be solved within a short amount of time, but Eamon and I have found no leads," Fergus said, "And I don't feel comfortable with you walking alone around the city. Surely you can't feel too comfortable about it either, given you were kidnapped in broad daylight."

"I don't feel comfortable going out, but now that I have to stay confined to my house unless my Dad arms himself to the teeth to escort me around, I really hate having to stay at my house," Dianna said, "If I'm only able to visit you once every week, or even longer…I'm going to hate it even more."

Walking around the desk Fergus pulled Dianna into his arms, who hugged him back as tightly as she could hold him. He had missed her as well, but he would suffer her absences with the knowledge that she was safe.

"Did your father really arm himself to the teeth?" Fergus asked after a few minutes of just holding her.

"Yes," Dianna replied, sounding annoyed and embarrassed, "I think the Archdemon would have thought twice about crossing him."

Fergus laughed, "Sounds like quite the sight."

Loosening her arms Dianna took a step back to look up at Fergus, causing him to lower his arms as well, grabbing her hands in his, "I'm sure you'll have a chance to see him one day. At any rate I was told you'd probably be hungry so I took this off the servant's hands to bring it to you."

She motioned to the tray of food, and Fergus glanced at it momentarily to find there looked to be plenty of food for the two of them. Asking for her to join him she agreed. Picking up his chair and pulling another one up next to him the two sat down and dug into the meal of bread, meat and potatoes. In between bites they updated each other on what had happened during the week, which there wasn't much news for either of them except Rosemary's cat had died. She was a really old cat they were surprised she lived for as long as she did. Rosemary was grieving for the loss of her pet friend and wasn't planning on getting another cat for a while.

They were just finishing their lunch when there was a knock at the study door. Fergus called for them to come in, and once again he was surprised by the guest.

"Teagan? What brings you to Highever? Is everything alright in Redcliffe?" Fergus asked.

"Yes, yes, everything is just fine," Teagan replied, "I was here for some uh…other business but I decided to stop by and see how you and my brother were doing. Any progress on your search?"

The groan from Fergus was all the answer Teagan needed.

"That bad?"

"Worse," Fergus replied, "Perhaps some fresh eyes could do us some good, but I wasn't planning on going back to the search until tomorrow."

"I would be more than willing to offer my aide," Teagan replied, "I plan to be in Highever for…some time."

Dianna looked at Teagan curiously. He was acting awfully nervous and obviously avoiding talking about something.

"And how are you Dianna?" Teagan asked, changing subject.

"Doing well enough," she replied, "Feel like a prisoner in my own home, but…what can you do when someone is out to do you harm?"

"At least you are home," Teagan said, to which Dianna had to agree, "And what of your friend Margaret? How is she?"

"She's doing well," Dianna replied, "Still a bit shaken up, but doing well. Even with her mom trying to set her up with Eamon. Which…that might be why she's still shaken up."

Fergus dropped his head into a hand with a laugh. He had found that night to be mildly entertaining due to Sophie's matchmaking attempts. Teagan however looked shocked and even a bit worried hearing that.

"She…what?"

Dianna went on to tell Teagan about what happened the night they all came to the castle for supper. Starting with from how desperate Sophie was to find a husband for her daughter tried arranging something right then and there, but luckily the rest of them came to her rescue, veering off subject and keeping it off for the rest of the night. Dianna noticed Teagan relax when she had mentioned how Maggie was horrified at the thought of marrying Eamon. Dianna was starting to think she knew why he seemed so anxious.

"Sounds like it was an entertaining evening indeed," Teagan said, "Well…I believe I have taken up enough of your time, I just wanted to say hello. I'm going to go find my brother then go about my business for the day. I'll be back on the morrow to help you if you still wish it."

"We could use all the help we can get," Fergus replied, "I'll see you then tomorrow."

With a nod and a bow Teagan made his exit. Dianna looked at Fergus, "I think the real reason Teagan is here is because he wanted to see Maggie."

Fergus's brow furrowed, "What makes you say that?"

"Oh, just how he was acting when I was telling him about her almost being set up with his brother," Dianna replied, "He looked horrified, then finally relaxed when he found out she didn't want it at all."

Fergus just shrugged, "If you say so."

"I say so," Dianna said, "Just you watch."

That night as Fergus was finishing up in the study, he looked over the kidnapping contract one last time before leaving. Reading line by line three times over he scoured for anything he may have missed previously. Still nothing. With a sigh he went to place it in his drawer, when something caused him to pause as the letter passed over the oil lamp on his desk. Bringing it back to the light, so that the light was illuminating it from behind he saw an insignia on the paper, one that wasn't able to be seen during the daytime when they had been going over it.

"Oh Maker."

"I made a discovery last night pertaining to the search," Fergus announced to Eamon and Teagan once they joined him in the study the next morning after breakfast, "One that is rather… alarming, but it's a lead."

"And just what is this lead you found, and how?" Eamon asked. Having found nothing in a week he was starting to believe they wouldn't find anything at all.

"The contract. We suspected it should hold a clue and it did. Just give me a moment," Fergus replied.

He then went to the windows in the room and drew the curtains shut, causing Eamon and Teagan to look at each other in confusion. Did he fear someone was watching them? They said nothing but waited for Fergus to finish whatever he was doing. With the curtains drawn it was significantly darker in the room until he lit the oil lamp, and held the contract in front of it so they could see the light coming through.

"See it?" Fergus asked.

"Oh dear" Teagan said, "I've heard of them. Aren't they a group of Assassins much like the Crows?"

"That's what I've heard as well," Fergus said, "They lack in the finesse that the Crows are known for, but they're trained killers nonetheless. They revel in it actually."

Fergus looked to Eamon to find he looked tense and petrified, color drained from his face and staring at the insignia at the bottom of the paper. Fergus gave him a curious look, "Is there something you have to add Eamon?"

Eamon snapped out of his stupor, "No, no. Nothing more than either of you have already said."

He still appeared nervous, but Fergus merely assumed it may be from his worry of going against the group for more information. That was exactly what they would have to do, which was why Fergus was rather intimidated by this discovery. He and his men may be trained to fight, but this group was a bloodthirsty bunch with different sets of skills they had only gone up against once.

"What exactly do you plan to do now?" Teagan asked, "Now that you have this information."

"That's the part I'm worried about," Fergus said, going back to the windows and drawing the curtains back, "We'll have to find them and either interrogate the leader, or hope they actually hold a record of their contracts."

"It'd only make sense if they did," Teagan said, "At least the names that meant something. Use it as blackmail. Question is though, do we even know where they are in Highever?"

"No," Fergus replied with a sigh, "And I know we won't get anywhere if it's us poking around for information. We're too well known."

"Well I don't know who you're including in this 'we' you're talking about," Eamon began, "but I'm not too comfortable with immersing myself into dangerous company. I'm not much of a fighter anymore. Age has finally caught up with me it seems."

Fergus nodded, "I understand Eamon. If you'd rather return to Redcliffe I can continue this investigation on my own. You are still welcome to stay here to continue to offer aide if we find anything else."

"I think I will stay. At least for a short time," Eamon said, "As of right now I'll go ahead and take my leave, let you sort out your plan."

With a bow Eamon left the room. With his help gone, Fergus turned to Teagan, "If you're uncomfortable with the threat this poses you can go too."

"I'm not letting you do this on your own," Teagan said, "Besides, I want to find the bastard who tried to sully my name and frame me."

"I am sorry for doubting you," Fergus said solemnly.

Teagan shrugged, "I can't really blame you. You've been through a lot, which has made you more cautious, and suspicious of those around you. But that's in the past now. Do you have any ideas on how to find this Avvarian's base?"

Sitting down in his chair Fergus strummed his fingers together as he thought. Teagan sat as well, waiting for Fergus to speak. A few minutes later he finally said, "We can't have anyone who is known throughout the city asking questions, otherwise they wouldn't make a move. But it also has to be someone they would want. Someone with unique skills."

"Did you have someone in mind?"

Fergus pursed his lips. He did, but did he want to take that risk? Or better yet, would the person he was thinking of even agree? Then there was the fact he'd have to explain to Teagan exactly why he thought of this person. He trusted Teagan though, so he was going to go ahead and tell him.

"First you have to promise me that you won't say a word to anyone. Not even your brother."

Teagan raised his eyebrows in intrigue, "I promise."

"No! Absolutely not! Out of the question!"

"Bartholomew, this is Elliot's choice," Fergus said to the fuming physician, "And he would be a great help to finding some answers about Dianna's kidnapping."

"Absolutely not!" Bartholomew bellowed, standing between his son and the Teyrn to act as a blockade between them, "I'm not going to have you exposing my boy for that! He's a healer! Not a fighter!"

"Father—," Elliot began.

"Don't worry Elliot I won't let them force you to do it," Bartholomew interrupted.

"But I want to help!"

Bartholomew whirled around to face his son, "Are you crazy? Do you know what could happen to you if these people discover you're infiltrating their guild just to sell them out? They'll kill you on the spot! Or worse, they'll send for Templars!"

"I can do it Father," Elliot said.

"And I promise to keep a close eye on him," Fergus added.

Bartholomew took in a breath and held it for a few seconds before letting out a sad sigh, "If…if Elliot wants to help then…I won't stop him."

Elliot placed a comforting hand on his father's shoulder, "I'll be fine Father."

"Oh I hope so."

It took two days for Fergus's plan to be completely set up, assigning other trusted men and women to keep an eye on Elliot as he traversed the more dangerous parts of Highever. Though Fergus couldn't do it personally, he wasn't going to let Elliot wander into gang territory by himself. Once everything was all in place Elliot headed to the poor part of town, where there was a high chance of him coming across someone who would point him in the direction of recruitment for the Avvarian. Finding a small, filthy, rundown alehouse he entered through the creaking half broken door, heading to the middle aged man drinking behind the counter. Elliot wrung his hands together. Though he looked the part of a poor runaway, he knew he would have to convincingly play one. Glancing around nervously he counted only three patrons.

"Ex-ex-excuse me," Elliot stammered, "I-I-I—."

The middle aged man rolled his eyes, "Andraste's tits, speak properly boy!"

Elliot swallowed hard, "I'm new to the city s—," he stopped abruptly, not wanting to call the man sir. That would just sound even more suspicious, someone down in these parts of the city with manners, "And I was hoping…to find someplace where I could be…safe."

The man laughed humorlessly, "Safe? You're in the wrong part of the city for that."

Elliot's mind reeled to come up with a good reply to that. He was still acting off for this area. Then an idea popped into his head. Leaning in closer Elliot slapped his hands against the rough wooden counter.

"No, I know I'm in the exact area for the sort of safety I need," Elliot whispered harshly, "I'm not trying to avoid thugs. I need them. So am I in the sort of area where I could find those people?"

The man studied him with narrowed eyes for a few moments before asking, "What sort of skills do you have?"

"The kind I will only divulge to certain parties," Elliot replied.

"Then perhaps you should talk to Jareth," the man said, motioning with his head to his right.

Looking to his own left, Elliot saw a fourth patron he had not seen earlier step away from the shadows he had been skulking in. He was a man, younger than the man at the counter but older than himself. He wore leather armor that had seen many battles, the menacing look on his face giving the same impression. Standing up straight, Elliot made his way over to him.

"Jareth?"

He nodded and motioned for Elliot to follow. Elliot hesitated for a second before following Jareth outside the building and down an alleyway before they finally stopped.

"What's your name boy?" Jareth asked.

"Elliot…," Elliot replied hesitantly.

"Sounds like you are looking to be recruited, Elliot," Jareth said, "Did you have anyone in mind?"

Sensing a trap Elliot decided to not use any names because really how would one know of any of the mercenary groups when they were new in town.

"I'd prefer the ones with the most renown," Elliot replied, "They tend to have the better fighters and that would be even better protection."

Jareth raised an eyebrow, "And just what makes you think you could be recruited into such a group? What skill do you have? You look like a frightened, skinny young boy, with no weapons. What do you have to offer?"

Deciding now was the time to reveal his talent, Elliot created a shard of ice above his hand, "I offer the sort of skill most mercenaries would kill to have."

"An apostate," Jareth said, sounding impressed, "Escaped the tower did we?"

"Why do you think I want the toughest mercenaries at my side?" Elliot questioned back, "There are Templars everywhere."

"At least it's not Kirkwall," Jareth said.

Elliot shuddered. Kirkwall. Just the mention of the name gave him nightmares. Tonight was not going to be fun, sleeping in an unfamiliar place, not knowing whether he'll be killed in his sleep and having nightmares of Kirkwall on top of that.

"I know a man who works for the Avvarian's," Jareth went on, "Their company certainly has the skill you so desire to have on your side. However, it would be up to them to make the decision."

"Meaning I'll have to show them what I can do."

Jareth nodded, "That it does."

Elliot took in a deep breath. This was it, "Alright. What do I have to do?"

Elliot was told to go to the Mad Knight Tavern and ask for Tathar. Elliot had to ask for directions since he honestly did not know the city, and he was surprised the Tavern was not in the scummy part. It was actually set in the middle class section, which made Elliot worry somewhat. Many of the citizens would be too terrified to head into the dangerous parts of the city to hire someone to do their dirty work, but being able to come here where it was reasonably safe? Elliot had a feeling the Avvarian's assassins got quite a bit of work around here.

Going up to the tavern keep he asked for Tathar, as he was told, and was directed to one of the first rooms in the back of the tavern. Nervously stepping into the room Elliot saw an elf sitting at the table, drinking what looked to be wine. The elf was finely dressed in dark red and gold, complimenting his dark complexion, black hair, and golden eyes. Through the finery he still looked dangerous.

"You must be Elliot," Tathar said. His voice was deeper than Elliot expected, and sounded rather snakelike as well, "Please, sit. Jareth told me you were looking to join a mercenary group."

Elliot took a seat across from Tathar at the table, "I am. I believe it best to be immersed in dangerous company to avoid Templars."

Tathar smiled, "That is clever thinking, though risky. Your dangerous company can turn on you if you give them the smallest reason to."

Elliot swallowed hard. That certainly sounded like a threat, but it was better to act like it didn't sound like one and just keep going, "I hope to be a good enough asset to avoid such complications."

"Jareth told me of your…unique abilities," Tathar said, "We would certainly benefit from such talents. Before anything is set in stone however, we need to see what you can do. Whether you are…suited to our line of work."

"I understand."

Tathar's wicked smile grew even wider, "Good. Tomorrow at dusk, be at the dock warehouses. We'll find you."

Along with the directions of where to be tomorrow, Elliot was also to stay at the Tavern for the night, which Tathar said he would take care of. Within minutes of their talk Elliot found himself in one of the Tavern's rooms. Sitting on the bed Elliot let out a heavy breath. It had been a stressful day and he looked forward to some quiet time.

He spent the few hours until suppertime resting in his room before heading downstairs again to have a bite to eat. In the middle of his meal a young lady sat down across from him at his small table. Elliot stared at her blankly, not sure what to say, or even think for that matter. Then he furrowed his brows together. She looked awfully familiar.

The young lady smiled brightly at him. She was a pretty thing with petite features and wavy blond locks flowing over her shoulders.

"You look lost young man," she said teasingly.

"I'm new to the city," he replied.

"Ah, that explains the weary look on your face," she said, "Had a rough day?"

It dawned on Elliot why she looked so familiar. She was a guard at the castle. Without her armor and hair pulled back she was nearly unrecognizable. She must have been the one sent to see how he was doing.

"Yeah it's been rough," Elliot replied, "I expect tomorrow will be worse."

The woman pursed her lips, "Well…that's unfortunate. I guess you should get a really good night's sleep then," then she smiled brightly again, "I best go then. Have a good evening."

Then grabbing his pint she took a swig of his ale, set it back down on the table, and sauntered out of the tavern. Elliot blinked after her for a few seconds before grabbing his flagon and looking inside. She had finished it off! With a sigh Elliot dropped the flagon and pushed it away from him. Girls were mean.

Elliot was starting to regret his decision to help the Teyrn as he headed to the dock warehouses the following evening. The route he took didn't go through the friendliest of places and he already had to deal with a few thugs who tried robbing him. Luckily freezing them to the wall proved to keep them at bay, long enough for him to knock them over the head to knock them out. Once reaching the warehouses, he was alone for hardly a minute when Tathar arrived with an entourage, all of them dressed in fine armor and bearing some gnarly looking weapons. Elliot gulped. If they wanted to kill him, he'd have no chance.

"So you made it," Tathar said, "Not without a few problems it seems. My men say you don't have the stomach for the sort of jobs required for us."

So someone had been watching him. He understood why, they wanted to be sure anyone wanting to be recruited was legit, but now Elliot figured himself a dead man.

"They weren't worth killing," Elliot bluffed, "Like bugs that only are swept out of a house. Why waste time squishing them?"

Tathar shrugged, "For the fun of it?"

Well that didn't seem to work. It was time to try something different, "Then perhaps your men are correct and I don't fit in with your work. I have preferred to master my healing arts rather than offensive spells, but if you don't want either of those then…do what you must to me. I don't expect to be allowed to live."

Tathar looked at the others before turning to face Elliot again, looking impressed, "You have some guts though, to even think about coming to us. You say you know healing spells though?"

"I mastered them," Elliot replied, "That sort of thing is looked highly upon in the Tower, as you would expect. I will admit I've only dabbled in offensive spells, but I learn fast."

Tathar deliberated for a few moments, circling slowly around Elliot. Elliot's heart began beating loudly as the elf moved behind him, but he didn't dare move to watch him. If he was going to die he didn't want to see it coming.

"And what of your visitor the other evening?" Tathar asked, "At the inn."

Now Elliot turned to look at Tather, confusion on his face because it took him a moment to realize he was talking about the girl. The soldier from the castle in disguise, "Oh, you mean that girl?"

"Yes," Tather said, elongating the word further out than necessary, "The girl. Who was she?"

"I assume some 'friendly' traveler whose intent was only to steal the rest of my drink," Elliot said bitterly for he was still bitter about that and hoping that they wouldn't catch on that he really did know her, "Your men certainly keep sharp tabs on potential recruits."

"Oh we do indeed," Tathar affirmed, before making a motion with his head and snapped his fingers.

Out from the shadows of an alleyway between two buildings came two more men dressed similarly to the others, dragging the girl in between them. She was bound and gagged, terror in her eyes as she was tossed to the ground in front of Elliot. Elliot stared at her in equal horror. Did this mean they knew what he was really up to? Or was this another test?

"She was found going to the Chantry after your little meeting," Tathar said, "Could it be possible she knew you were a mage and going to tell the Templars?"

Tathar whipped out a dagger and cut away her gag, making her flinch.

"I didn't know he was a mage!" the girl cried, "I only went to the Chantry to see the Mother. Please, let me go. I wasn't speaking to any Templars."

"Oh but now you do know he's a mage," Tathar said, "And since Elliot came to us in hopes to hide from the Templars, this is his chance to prove he's really willing to join our ranks, and silence you completely."

The girl looked up at Elliot, her frightened eyes locking with his. He knew he couldn't kill her, but if he didn't the both of them would surely be killed by the assassins. The girl swallowed hard, and closed her eyes, an almost peaceful expression on her face.

"It's okay," she said shakily, keeping her eyes closed, "I understand."

She was giving him permission to kill her. He couldn't do it! All his life he had been taught to save lives, not take them away. As he wracked his brain to figure out what to do, it came to him.

"What is it going to be then Elliot?" Tathar questioned, seeing his hesitation.

Elliot looked to Tathar, "I'm not going to risk the Templars finding me."

Then extending his hands he cast the spell on the girl. She let out an agonizing scream as her body tensed and bent backwards. Her screaming soon stopped and the color drained from her body until she was no more than a grey colored corpse, her skin looking withered and dry. Dropping his hands she then crumpled to the ground. Most of the assassins had a surprised look on their faces, while others, like Tathar were smiling, the sick bastards had enjoyed watching her "death".

"You have proved yourself Elliot," Tathar said, "But there is one more thing you must do."

"And what's that?" Elliot asked, inwardly groaning. He was tired of this charade.

Tathar motioned for him to follow, giving an order to the men to toss the body back in the alley, the local vermin would take care of the rest. Elliot followed, as he was told, grateful that they didn't decide to toss her body into the bay. That would have been bad, and only make Elliot feel worse about himself.

Tathar led him up back into the city to the Mad Knight Tavern's warehouse, where they kept their stores. It was in there that Tathar opened a secret door in the wall and led Elliot down into a hollowed out tunnel that led to a basement. Elliot could see many other doors so the size of the place was unknown, but he had a feeling this place expanded quite a ways.

"Welcome to our home," Tathar said, "This is where we are assigned our contracts. This is also where most of us stay."

Their base. Tathar had let him into the base. Elliot couldn't believe it. Now he just had to figure out a way to let the Teyrn know. That was going to be tricky. Tathar still had something for Elliot to do though, and he couldn't figure out what it could be, until they entered a room. A dozen or so humans and elves were in there, lying on beds looking worse for wear.

"Some of our men don't get away from contracts without some damage," Tathar said, "And they don't have anyone to give them professional care. You, however, can take care of their injuries."

Great, another thing Elliot didn't exactly want to do, heal assassins so they could go out and kill more people. But again he had to, else he would risk being killed himself. So around the room he went, healing the assassins' wounds and other ailments. One female elf had gotten an infection and was moments from death, but with Elliot's magic and medical knowledge she was going to pull through. After Elliot finished with her, he saw Tathar take her by the hand, the two sharing an intimate exchange. The gentleness and concern Elliot saw from Tathar was a shocking sight to behold. All Elliot had seen of the elf before was his bloodthirsty nature, to see the opposite action come from him was mind boggling.

"You may stay here from now on, if you so desire," Tathar said to Elliot once they left the infirmary and went back into the main hall, "Some of our comrades choose to live in other areas of the city, but it's your choice."

"Since my room at the Tavern has been paid for a whole week I think perhaps I'll stay there until the week is up," Elliot offered, "As to not waste the money spent on it."

Tathar shrugged, "There is plenty more, but if that is how you feel then we will see you at the end of the week."

Elliot nodded, hoping that he'd be able to get out of there and back to the castle before then, but he needed a plan first. He then took his leave, returning to the Tavern. It was dark and time for supper, and Elliot was feeling overwhelmed. A strong drink sounded very nice. In fact, he was going to get two. Maybe more. When he ended up ordering a third pint the Tavern keep made a comment to him, "You trying to drown your troubles boy?"

"Maybe," Elliot said, taking a big swig from his flagon.

"You think maybe you're just done with the city then?"

Elliot looked at the guy. That certainly sounded out of the blue. The man then tugged on a chain round his neck, giving Elliot a glimpse of the amulet on it. It had the Cousland crest on it. Ah, so this guy was helping him out too.

"Yeah," Elliot muttered, "It just might be time to go before things get worse."

The tavern keep placed the flagon down in front of Elliot before returning to the bar. At least now Teyrn Cousland would get the message that he wanted the hell out. The question was, just how would he do it without making himself known?

It had to have been the middle of the night when it happened. Elliot was sleeping soundly until he was ripped from the depths of sleep by the sound of splintering wood. Jolting upright Elliot found his room door had been broken in, and two Templars were coming at him. Elliot panicked. How did Templars find him? He only had a few options here, let himself get captured, jump out the window since they blocked the doorway, or fight. He decided to fight. He cast a freezing spell on the one who was the closest, bringing him to a stop as his armor was covered in a film of ice. The second one however moved quick seeing this and Elliot didn't have a chance to cast another spell before the Templar brought the hilt of their sword down on his head, knocking him out cold.

When Elliot found himself coming to, he was scared to open his eyes. Scared to see where he was. He didn't know how long he'd been out, it could have been days. His head was throbbing something awful so he wouldn't be surprised if a few days had gone by. For all he knew, he could be at the mage tower. After being still and silent for a few minutes Elliot mustered the guts to open his eyes. Peeking them open he first saw stone. That didn't tell him much, but he knew he was looking at a ceiling because he was lying on his back. Turning his head, he realized he recognized the place and sat upright with a jolt, instantly regretting it as his head throbbed.

"Easy there, son," Bartholomew said, hurrying over to his son and placing a hand on his shoulder and another at the back of his head and eased him back down onto his back, "Just lay down. You have quite the tender spot on your head."

"How did I get back to the castle?" Elliot asked, "I thought—."

"That would have been us," Elliot heard another voice say.

Looking around, Elliot saw that Teyrn Cousland and Bann Teagan were there as well.

"But…there were Templars," Elliot said.

"That was Fergus's idea," Teagan said.

"I thought it was the best way to get you back here as to not rouse suspicion among the assassins," Fergus said, "So we borrowed some armor."

"Sorry about your head," Teagan said.

Elliot went pale, looking straight at the Teyrn, "Don't tell me…it was you I attacked with the spell."

"It's okay," Fergus assured him, "Not much harm done. I knew the risks when I came up with the idea."

Even though Fergus wasn't upset, Elliot still couldn't believe he had actually attacked the Teyrn. He was starting to feel a little sick.

"I am…so sorry, my Lord," Elliot apologized.

"Don't worry about it," Fergus said, "All is forgiven."

That still didn't make Elliot feel better, but there was still another thing he needed to know to see just how awful he should feel.

"And what about the girl? The soldier from the castle?" Elliot asked, "Is she…okay or…."
"She's recovering nicely," Bartholomew replied, "She's been wanting to see you to thank you in person for fooling the assassins with your little trick."

Elliot sighed in relief. He was glad to hear it.

"Were you able to find out anything?" Fergus asked, "I assume she was to be a test for you."

Elliot nodded, "I know where their headquarters are."