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Edits as of 07/15/2015

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Chapter Thirteen: All roads lead to Denerim.

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Those who bear false witness

And work to deceive others, know this:

There is but one Truth.

All things are known to our Maker

And He shall judge their lies.

Transfiguration's 1:4

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Noise was the first thing that greeted me as I woke. Voices buzzed angrily and filled my ears with a dull roar. There was also a deep growling noise. Everything would rise to an almost screaming pitch that made me wince only for it to drop back down when a single, softy spoken, word was spoken, though that one word somehow had a whip-like quality to it that zapped over my skin. Eventually, I could feel a gentle weight that seemed to hum and was resting lightly on my chest and another weight that was resting against my side.

The voices and growling started their cycle again what felt like moments later and I tried to tune it all out. Tried to focus on the visions I'd had now that I was no longer 'living' them and could analyze them with a critical eye. Sound faded away a moment later as the visions came back into focus.

A young elven boy, maybe five, raised amongst a large group of rather busty women and handsome men. Learning from a young age the difference between sensual and sexual and how to use each to ones advantage by watching the adults around him. An older Matron teaching him how to do an effective message because 'he's old enough to earn his keep now'.

Jump...

That same boy, older now but still no more then seven or eight, standing in front of a different group of men and women, all with cold killer's eyes hidden behind kind words and gentle smiles. A taller Human passing over a bag of coin over to the Matron who has raised him. Another woman holding out her hand and saying 'Welcome to the family'. The boy knows instinctively that he cannot trust this new 'family' and tells them this flat out instead of taking the woman's hand. They laugh and say that he might well go far in the 'business'.

Jump...

Years of training, torture really, as he tries to rebel at first and then a different kind of training once he gives in. Then came the hardest lessons.

Learning poisons and taking poisons in small amounts to gain immunity to them. Learning to kill quickly and cleanly, how to make it look like an accident, how to make evidence to point to one person when it was a different person who hired them. Years of being forged into a living weapon to be used by the highest bidder.

Yet somehow he maintained a certain level of honor, a twisted kind of moral code. He never took a contract to kill a child and never took a contract for torture or slow deaths, anyone he killed got a swift, and mostly clean, death.

Jump...

Love... A killer elf, mid-twenties now, perhaps not even that. Trained and molded into an efficient living weapon. Taught that his mind meant nothing, that he WAS nothing but a blade in someone's hand and thus was not allowed to truly FEEL for himself and yet he somehow managed to find love despite it all. Years he had been a part of a team of three, him Taliesen and Rinna, and he began to feel true affection and love for Rinna and for all intents and purposes she seems to have felt the same for him. It was beautiful and heart wrenching at the same time... I knew in an instant that it wouldn't... couldn't... last.

Jump...

Betrayal! A trap. Rinna proven to be at fault. Cries of denial of her involvement, but the elf turns away spitting at her feet as Taliesen cuts her down for her deeds in leading them into a trap that they barely escaped. A heavy heart, but the evidence is undeniable and there is no other path left for them to take.

You do not betray the Crows...

Jump...

Betrayal! A TRICK! Rinna dead because the Master Crow of the elf's cell had seen their growing affection and wanted to teach the two of them a lesson. You are a weapon only and you are not allowed to FEEL. So the least skilled blade is destroyed to temper the others.

You BELONG to the Crows...

Jump...

Betrayal; A Choice. The first choice the elf has ever truly made for himself. There is a contract on the last of the Warden's in Fereldan. The Crows NEVER take contracts on Warden's, they are not fools. To do so might well bring the ENTIRE Order of the Grey down on their heads in vengeance and while the Crows are many, the Warden's have the greater number in Antiva. But the elf walks up, all smiles, and takes the contract from the Master Crow's fingers as he is laughing with the other, higher ranked, members of the cells about the audacity of the requested contract. A contract that is requested by Teryn Howe on behalf of one Teryn Loghain.

'This is a suicide mission if you do take it,' the Master explains.

'I am one of the best, am I not?' the elf responds. 'I will take this contract."

The elf knows death awaits him... he is counting on it. For the blade was not tempered by the Master Crow's plan, it was broken. And the look in the Master's eyes shows that he realizes what this elf, Zeveran, is doing and he knows he must make plans to paint Zeveran as a Crow gone rogue if he succeeds in order to protect the rest. Zeveran himself plots to gather together only the foulest, and the most foolish, mercenaries to assist him. Zeveran is DONE with the Crows, but...

But the only way to leave the Crows is to die.

"I said 'SILENCE'!" Morrigan's voice whipped through the air in an angry hiss. My eyes blinked open at the sound and the others all fell silent as I stared up at the sky and zeroed in on one of the clouds passing above.

I reached up slowly and rested my hand on the furred form of the Demon-in-cat-form purring away on my chest and idly pet the creature. It was Mongrel's comforting weight that rested against my side. Morrigan's face came into view but I couldn't bring myself to focus on her just yet, still overwhelmed by the visions. I kept staring at the particular cloud I'd chosen to focus on as it drifted slowly across the sky. She tugged lightly at my eye-lids, checking my pupils before falling out of sight again. I blinked rapidly and fought back a smile.

"He will be alright," her voice sounded strained. Well... more annoyed really. "Now, for the last time, remain silent or I will put the entire lot of you to sleep."

A whine came from my side where Mongrel huddled against me.

"Yes, even you!" Morrigan snapped softly. "Your growling has not helped any and 'tis not like the rest of these buffoons can understand you."

A huff was her response as Mongrel settled his head back against my shoulder.

"Huh... that answers that," I said weakly as I turned my head a bit to the side. Nausea hit me suddenly and made my sight go cross-eyed for a few seconds.

Morrigan was suddenly there, moving my head back the way it was when I woke and a small amount of magic traced over her hand. I watched as a small layer of frost covered her fingers before they touched my forehead and I let out an moan of relief at the cooling touch.

"Do not move," Morrigan said firmly. "Mother oft has visions of varying degrees but 'tis rare even for her to react this badly to one, though I will admit it is affecting you far longer then it has ever affected her. 'Tis strange that, she normally recovers within a half hour if not less. You have been out for at least two hours."

Two hours lost because of this strange series of visions. I frowned a bit and sighed as I looked back at my cloud for a moment. Ike really was a soothing, purring weight on my chest as I pet the demon-cat and I found myself somewhat glad that we'd successfully switched out the possessee.

"What happened to him?" Alistair said as softly as he could from what sounded like only a few steps away.

A glance showed that he was close and that Leliana and Sten were standing guard next to the Crow and couldn't hear us. Morrigan started to snap at him but my croaking voice stopped her.

"What DID happen My Lady?" I asked weakly, softly, trying not to be heard by our Crow guest. "I've seen pieces of people's past before but never... never a life-time's worth of events."

"'A life-time'? As I thought then," she leaned back on her heels and frowned. "Mother has only had one such vision like that in the time that I have been alive, but several more before I was born. For lack of a better name she refers to them as 'Judgement' visions. When someones' past is so very scarring and soul destroying that they could well and truly be considered monsters meant to be put down for the betterment of all and yet the vision shows that there is something about them that MIGHT make them redeemable in the Seer's eyes. 'Tis then up to the Seer on what is done from there."

Alistair was leaning closer now, his lips drawn down in a frown as he digested that information. Morrigan continued.

"Sometimes it may merely be that they never chose that path of pain and death for themselves, forced to be as they are by their peers. Other times it may be that they have already started on a path of redemption by caring for something or someone other then themselves. The Judgement vision, as Mother explained it to me, shows the Seer everything they need to know to decide if the one in question is worth the trouble of helping them on that path of redemption or if they should be put down as a threat to others."

"So... I need to judge if he is worthy enough to live?" I said softly as I slowly sat up. Morrigan grumbled but assisted me in sitting as I looked to where the Crow, Zeveran, sat.

"What? You're not seriously..." Alistair hissed. "He tried to kill us!"

"No," I said as I looked the elf over. "He tried to commit suicide by Gray Warden."

"Wai... WHAT?!" Alistair yelped out.

I ignored Alistair's stutters of disbelief and turned back to Morrigan.

"One vision you said?" I asked her. "Did she spare the one you were alive for?"

"No, not in the end. Though she did share that vision and one other with me to give me perspective," Morrigan paused for a moment before shrugging. "Both that she told me about were of former members of the Chantry. The vision of the one after my birth had harmed a child at the behest of his peers, after years of obeying them in other things, and fled only AFTER the deed was done. He spent years trying to help any child in need after that out of guilt of his actions, taking only lyruim as his payment. When he came across Mother he'd been wounded in the process of freeing a group of children from slavers. She then slew him, as when she recovered he was still unconsious. Mother does not spare those who harm children in such a manner as a rule. The other... was falling prey to Lyrium poisoning and had actually sought her out specifically for a honorable death."

"And this one's foul deeds?" I asked.

"He had been a Templar turned Seeker, from what Mother told me," Morrigan shrugged and continued. "He'd been one of the higher ranked ones and had long been the Chantries personal spy. Most thought him just another Templar. The information he had found over the years had led to many deaths; mage, noble, serf and more. He used Truth as a brutal weapon against the Chantries enemies, but he was firm in FINDING the truth first before acting. One day though, he was tasked to find some information on a family and had at one point overheard his superiors speaking of 'purging' the entire family, down to the babes, regardless of if he found actual proof of the claim or not. Mother told me that the vision had shown that he'd actually gone to lengths to find the full truth of the situation and had found that the rumors against said family, rumors of blood magic by-the-by, had been false rumors generated by Chantry clergy who wanted the families lands and monies. He then took that information not to his superiors but directly to the Divine herself in order to protect that family from the false rumors and punish those within Chantry ranks who would use their powers in such a manner."

Alistair was staring wide-eyed at Morrigan's words, at a loss as to what to say. I sighed and rolled my shoulders to try to relieve the kink in them from having lain on the hard ground so long.

"He was excommunicated some point after that then?" I asked. "For doing what he saw was the right thing to do instead of allowing his superiors to continue with their plot?"

"Aye," a bit of wistful amazement laced her tone. "I had long been taught that most within the Chantry are corrupt or simply blind to the truth around them and that I should avoid those who spouted such doctrine with a fanatics fervor. I even agree with Mother that most people are fools. Yet even she had admitted that there were a few 'diamonds in the rough' amongst the grime of hypocrisy. Rare indeed, but there if you take the time to look. She took time on him, healed his wounds, fed him small doses of Lyrium to get his strength up. For months she worked him hard until he was back to his full strength. And then they fought."

"Wait... so she healed him and got him back to full strength only to fight him?" Alistair asked in shock.

"It makes sense," I said. Alistair shot me an incredulous look.

"And how does it make sense?!" he asked.

"He wanted an Honorable death," I pointed out. "Not to die affected by Lyrium madness on some sick bed. When he managed to find Flemeth he was likely delirious and useless in a fight. To give him the Honorable death he wanted would have involved getting him back on his feet, getting him fighting fit and then challenging him to a fight to the death."

"But... but..." Alistair seemed at a loss. "It just seems like a waste."

"Where would he have gone Alistair?" I asked softly. "The only job he had was taken from him, he was for all intents and purposes a drug addict and there was likely a LOT of internal damage to his organs because of it, especially if he had been a Templar for a number of years before becoming a Seeker. He was most likely already dying and wanted to go with at least his dignity intact."

Alistair nodded slowly. I looked back to Morrigan.

"How long ago was that?" I asked.

"Ah... not even a year before I was born in truth..." Morrigan seemed a bit perturbed by the admission.

"Wait? Not even a year?" Alistair said in a high voice. "You mean that he could have been your Father?! And she killed him?!"

"I do not know in truth," Morrigan said with a shrug, still looking annoyed. "Whenever I asked she would deflect the question by sending me off to do various chores. She had told me the important part of his story and felt that that was all I needed to know of him."

I shared a amazed look with Alistair. Just the thought of Flem... I blanked out the trail of thought forcfully and turned to focus again on our Crow elf. I stood with Alistair and Morrigan's help, keeping Ike balanced in my arms.

Zeveran looked haggard in a sense but he kept a jovial look on his face and tried to seem care-free as he sat bound between Sten and Leliana. It was his eyes that gave him away though, showing his unease and fear. Where he had been set on dying before, the close call had most likely jolted him in deciding that he didn't much like the thought of dying any longer. Understandable that.

His armor was of high quality even though it looked old and worn with use. Most likely, he'd had that one set of armor for a long while if not most of his adult career as a Crow. A close look showed careful stitching and repair work to help the old set last as long as possible. The same could be said of the daggers laying off to the side and out of his reach. Both looked worn, well, I should say that the leather around the grip of the hilts looked worn, the blades themselves were well taken care of and shone with the oils used to polish a blade and probably a bit of poison to boot. The blades on closer inspection had nicks that had been buffed as much as possible, revealing that he'd been in some rather close calls and had to use his blades to deflect or redirect blows at some point.

I picked up one of the two blades carefully and sniffed at it. Just the scent of the blade-oil. I tilted the blade this way and that, catching the reflection of the sun. No discoloration. I blinked and raised a brow as I looked down at him.

"No poison? You were pulling your punches then," I said calmly as I put the blade back down.

"Oh? Well, that DOES make me sound foolish, no?" he said with a grin. He had a thick Antivan accent. "Why would I 'pull punches' against a Gray Warden and his band, hmm?"

I crouched down in front of him, keeping a good distance just in case he decided to be stupid, a tilted my head. Demon-Ike shifted in my grip and climbed up onto my shoulders which left my hands free. Zeveran eye'd the cat warily for a moment before he turned his attention back to me and issued another bright grin that didn't reach his eyes.

"Am I to be interrogated then? Shall I save you some time and trouble?" he asked jovially and I raised my brow.

"You seem to be awfully free with your information," I said drolly.

"And why not? I am not being paid for my silence. I'm not being paid at all!" he kept his grin but his eyes darkened as he spoke.

"I know," I said simply.

Alistair started to move forward but I shot him a look that said 'let me handle it'. He paused and nodded once before falling back again. The others hadn't moved, our group was keeping the Crow surrounded on all sides.

"Ah? Would you be willing to enlighten me then, brave and Handsome Warden?" A flirtatious look flashed across his face as he blatantly looked me over as I crouched in my leathers. Morrigan laughed beside me even as I fought the blush that threatened at the blatant suggestion in his gaze.

"This one is quite spirited, isn't he?" she asked.

"Aye, My Lady, he is," I grinned at her before looking back to Zeveran. "As MUCH as I enjoy the attention, you flirt, I suggest we keep to business, hmm?"

He issued a heavy, if exaggerated sigh, "Oh, if we must. Though I do not see why I cannot appreciate the FINE specimen of manliness in front of me."

Alistair started choking on air while Leliana giggled. Sten just let out an annoyed huff and looked to the side.

"Well then, to business as you wish," Zeveran shrugged. "I was hired on to kill you of course, but obviously I failed, so skilled are you-"

I cut him off with a small slash of my hand, "I know that. I know who hired you. I know you are a Crow. I know you have killed dozens if not hundreds of men and women, but never children."

Zeveran blanched and his smiled dimmed some what as I continued.

"I am a rare thing Zeveran Arainai, a true Seer," I reached forward to tap a finger against his chin, forcing his head up a bit. "I know you sought us out to die... and I know why. What I don't know is why I should let you live."

"I..." Zeveran looked flabbergasted. It seemed like a rare expression for him.

"Tell me how you felt when you woke up," I asked.

"Well..." he was obviously struggling to regain his mental footing after my little announcement. "Surprised in truth. I expected your... eh.. handsome canine," Mongrel barked at that, "would have ripped out my throat after the blow to my head and yet... he did not."

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Strangely relieved," he shrugged then and his gaze turned wistfully bitter. "I had thought myself ready for death but to wake up and find I was still alive? I find the thought of dying... uncomfortable now. And yet I am dead either way..."

"Explain," I said as I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Even if I succeeded in killing you now, my life is forfeit. Crows know not to go after Grey Warden's. An unofficial treaty of peace exists between the two groups if you will. As such, if I succeeded I would be hunted down as a 'rogue' to be put down if I harmed a 'brother' or 'sister' of the Warden order."

"And if we simply let you go?" I asked.

"The Master of my cell knew my intent when I took the contract," he said and shrugged. I nodded.

"You became useless to him as an agent the moment you took the parchment from his hands," I deduced softly.

"Very much so," he said.

"As the only way to leave is to die..." I tilted my head. "What about becoming a Warden?"

"Ah.. respectfully Warden, there are some bodily fluids even I will not touch..." Zeveran pulled a face as if he'd bitten a lemon.

Alistair started spluttering again and I held up a hand to silence him.

"How long have you known THAT little tid-bit of information?" I asked, keeping my words vague as I did not yet trust Sten or Leliana to not freak out about the Joining ritual.

Blood Magic of any kind was frowned upon and a ritual that involved drinking the blood of Darkspawn? Yeah, either of them might freak out considering their respective backgrounds. Perhaps one day I might trust them with the information. Sten at least might need to know in order to explain properly to his Arishok why the Warden's were needed and the how and why of our abilities. I would rather like to promote understanding between the Qunari and the Warden's to better facilitate interactions that would not result with deaths on either side. Especially if the Qunari had the misfortune of being caught in the center of a later Blight. If a Blight did break out and there was no Warden presence in Par Vollan at the time... part of me felt that their entire society would be destroyed if such a thing came to be. Another part of me worried that such a thing would result in an army of Ogres being led by an Archdemon...

For some reason, that last worry was... less intense... as if there was a hint of Sight that said to me that such a scenario would be almost impossible due to... something important. I resolved myself to ask Sten, when he was more comfortable with the group and with my magic in particular, to let me examine him with magic. This sense of 'something important', while not urgent, was something that I felt I would need to learn at a later date.

I turned my focus back to Zeveran as he spoke.

"That? Only a year now," Zeveran shrugged. "Younger Crows are not trusted with such sensitive information. You have to move up to a certain level in the ranks before you can be trusted with such a secret. Some Crow's even act as... liaison's between the two groups. The same can be said of most forms of government, yes?"

"True enough," I answered with my own shrug "Duncan did say that only Trusted members of the government can be told certain things concerning Gray Warden's."

"Wait... he did?" Alistair looked at me with a blink.

"Duncan wanted me to replace him as Commander Alistair..." I said as I turned to my Warden Brother. "Not quite in the way that I did but still. At any rate, he did share with me some key methods of how Warden's are supposed to act. One of the Warden motto's is quite literally; 'What ever it takes'."

I didn't want to even begin to go over the fact that I knew, from reading various tomes and scrolls, that every single Gray Warden that had defeated an Archdemon over the years had perished along with the Archdemon in question during the final blow. I had a strong idea of what that meant but... I knew in my bones that 'what ever it takes' wasn't just a saying... it was a fact of life for the Warden's.

"But... ! That isn't... !" As Alistair blustered I stood and looked at him with a firm expression.

"Alistair..." I started slowly, "if you has the choice to kill the Archdemon, which alone can cause the death's of thousands or save a city of hundreds, which would you focus on?"

"I..." Alistair went white suddenly and stepped back. He closed his eyes and looked pained.

Alistair was a good man, a good friend to have at your back in a fight and a good warrior especially because of his Templar training. But that was part of the problem; he was TOO Good. The thought of abandoning hundreds to die for the chance to kill the Archdemon, a creature which could potentially cause the deaths of thousands, if not MILLIONS, wasn't something he could stomach easily. As it was, I knew the answer his heart would give at this moment; he would try save the city and THEN try to catch up to, and kill, the Archdemon. A choice that risked giving the Archdemon the chance to escape.

He finally shook his head and gave a helpless shrug. I smiled at him gently and tapped at my chest.

"A Warden's duty is killing Darkspawn and ending the Blight," I said softly. "As Warden-Commander I must turn ALL resources available to me on any Darkspawn threat, including the Archdemon itself," I held up my hands then weighing them back and forth. "I don't like the thought of such a choice, if I can help I will, believe me, I WILL, but if the choices available to me are a hundred lives verses the thousands, the MILLIONS, that might die if we turn away from a guaranteed opportunity to kill the Archdemon... then the hundred die to save the thousands, the millions. It's not a GOOD choice, I wont say that it is, but it's a choice that, AS YOU ARE, you would not be able to make. That kind of decision, Alistair, would break you as of right now."

He said nothing to that, there was really nothing he could say. He simply looked at me with an expression akin to if I had kicked his puppy before he looked at the ground with a long frown.

"I'm not saying I will go out of my way to do horrible things to fight the Blight," I said as I patted his shoulder, "but we may have to make such a hard choice in the future and I need you to stand by my side if such a thing happens. Can you do that?"

"I..." he took a breath and then nodded once. "I'll follow your orders... Commander."

He grinned weakly at the last and I rolled my eyes and punched his shoulder in response.

"Shut it," I said with a grin before I looked back down at our Crow. He'd remained silent through the exchange, even relaxing slightly the longer we left him alive. I crossed my arms as I looked at him, before I nodded to myself.

"I think the Warden's of Fereldan can use their own Crow," I started. "You said yourself that the Crows have those in the fringe ranks of the Warden's, if we keep you on as a 'protected adviser', a 'liaison' as you said, then they can't touch you, can they?"

"Hmph, if you do this I suggest checking your food often," Morrigan said drolly as she turned away and starting digging through a pack I didn't recognize.

It took me a moment to realize it was a pack that had belonged to the mercenaries Zeveran had hired and was most likely filled with what loot the others had gathered from the various corpses. I turned back to Zeveran.

"Hmmm. Well, I must admit that your idea has merit, though it may only buy me a few years," Zeveran said thoughtfully.

"So the question become 'dead now or dead later' doesn't it?" I asked him.

He nodded at that and smiled at me, "Indeed, indeed! Well then, I must say that I agree to your terms. I do seem to have a new appreciation for life, no? If I may be untied?"

I nodded once to Sten, who bent and picked up the Crows weapons, then nodded to Leliana who cut free Zeveran's bindings. He bounced to his feet easily, rolled his shoulders to work out the kinks and grinned again. Then he did something that surprised me. He seemed to elegantly drop to the ground, going to one knee and bracing his hand against his chest.

"As you say, I am Zeveran Arainai," he said as he bowed his head. "My life is yours to do with as you please until such time that I die in service to you or you release me from this oath. I am your man without reservation or hesitation, this I so swear."

I blinked a bit and then clapped my hands together.

"Excellent, first order of business then," I took the demon-cat off my shoulder and held him up for Zeveran to see as he stood. "This is Ike. Ike has the misfortune of being possessed by a demon named Salacity."

The look on Zeveran's face turned incredulous at that as he stared at the purple-eyed cat. I continued.

"Salacity is a Desire demon who desires to live in the real world and we had to get her out of a young boy without killing him, thus, she is now possessing this cat instead of said boy. She's got a nice little set of rules surrounding her continued stay in the physical realm so we don't have to worry about her being bad a bad kitty and trying to possess anyone without permission," I flashed him a cold smile.

"Now I'm not saying I don't trust you at your word. Your word has been the only true currency available to you for a long time from what I Saw, so it is quite valuable to you and thus it is valuable to me, but one has to have a bit of insurance just in case, no?"

"Very understandable but...," he leaned forward a bit and lightly touched a finger to the cat's nose. "I must ask if you are truly being serious? I have heard, and even done, quite a few strange things over the years as a Crow, but this?" Demon-Ike lightly licked at Zeveran's finger and started to purr loudly. He chuckled and shook his head as he wagged a finger in my direction as if he were scolding me. "No, I would think you are joking. Pulling my leg, if you will."

"Oh, he's not joking," Leliana pipped up as Sten handed Zeveran his daggers back with an imperious glare. Zeveran took the blades with a hesitant smile and then turned back to our Chantry Bard.

"No?"

The conversation path actually deteriorated from there as the Leliana and Zeveran talked about our groups journey so far, with Morrigan and Alistair occasionally putting their two coppers worth in. Zeveran was accepted into the ranks grudgingly by the end of the day and I think the only reason why it was so smooth was because of the open secret that he'd intended to commit suicide via Gray Warden in attacking us and could thus be forgiven for the attack. Hell, the fact that the mercenaries he'd hired for the suicide mission had been the scum of Thedas and not some inno... eh, honorable, sod was a plus in his favor.

The journey to Denerim took a bit longer then expected; we actually got waylaid by a man named Levi Dryden, who had been intent on finding Duncan and was quite saddened by the man's death. He explained that he was one of 'The' Dryden's related to Sophia Dryden, the Warden-Commander who had led to the Warden's being exiled from Fereldan for so blasted long. He wanted to try to reclaim the old stronghold, Warden's Keep, and find proof that Sophia wasn't the villain most painted her as and bring honor back to his family. I agreed that, after we took steps to help the Arl, we would look into reclaiming the stronghold as we needed our own base of operations. Surprisingly Levi offered to travel with us and I accepted as he had different trade-able supply options from Bodahn that we could use over the journey.

The next delay was my own fault, not due to any visions but because I saw a streak of fire pass over our heads suddenly, followed by a loud report that filled the air. I'd let out a 'WHOOP!' and... pretty much abandoned the group and left them calling after me in complete confusion. Well, Morrigan sounded a bit LESS confused then the others as she yelled after me, but was no less upset with me for darting off on my own. I came across a small family that looked like they'd almost gotten hit by the sky-rock and I carefully took the time, despite my eagerness, to look them over and make sure they were all okay, especially the babe.

They hemmed and hawwed over the age of the baby when I asked, which left me a might bit confused but I decided to ignore it when the babe showed no signs of mistreatment. I advised them to make their way north or at least for them to head to Denerim due to the Blight and even gave them two Sovereigns to help them out, more to hurry them AWAY from the crater the sky-rock had left behind then any real kindness.

When they were finally gone I eagerly stumbled into the crater itself, letting the small amount of ice magic I could do coat my hands in frost. Alistair apparently saw me as I jumped down the crater because I hear him shouting after me.

"Darren!? What the hell!? DARREN?! Are you all right?!"

His face was suddenly peeking over the edge of the large crater and I waved at him before turning back to the relatively small glowing sky-rock. I carefully picked it up, stumbling back a step, and despite the preparation with my magic I had to toss the rock back and forth between my hands and re-frost them in order to keep from burning them.

Despite the size of the sky-rock it was surprisingly light weight. It was roughly the size of a large watermelon but felt like it weighed no more then a smaller melon, like a cantaloupe. As the frost melted away from my fingers it washed clean the burned earth and revealed a metal that had a blue sheen marked with white lines streaking through it like lightning bolts.

I took a slow, shuddering breath as I looked over the sky-rock. It was truly Star-Metal. I was holding a sky-rock composed of STAR-METAL. Metal that was believed by Andrastians to be an ultimate gift of the Maker. Metal that was believed by the Dalish to be the ultimate blessing of their Spirits. Light and flexable enough to be forged into a bow, strong and reselient enough to be forged into a Great Sword or a Hammer. I set the sky-rock down and pulled my glaive from over my shoulder and looked at the blade. To have it reworked to have a core of star-metal and a blade of star-metal. I shuddered again from sheer amazement and awe as I looked down at the sky-rock.

The only problem now was finding someone with the knowledge to forge the metal ore into a weapon.

-=-=*/*/*=-=-

What felt like hours later, I'd lunged up the crater, swiping Alistair's pack before he had a chance to stop me and darted back down. Stuffing all of my things, minus the money pouch, into his bag I then stuffed the sky-rock into my own once it was cooled. I then tossed Alistair's pack back up to him with a shouted warning.

"Get cheese on my maps Ali and I'll zap you so bad you'll be dancing and twitching for a month!"

"Alright, alright!" he called as he picked up the pack gingerly. "What's all the fuss though?"

I clambered back up and out of the crater before showing him the sky-rock with a grin.

"This is made out of Sky-metal. If I can find a smithy that can forge it I'll have a weapon of highest quality."

"Wow," Alistair blinked as he poked at the sky-rock. "You should try Wade's Emporium in Denerim."

"Wade? Oh! Wait... that Wade?" I blinked as I thought.

Greagior had gone to a Wade a long time ago to make my current glaive weapon. The kindest description the old Templar had for the man by the end of the visit was 'crazy'. Apparently he prefered to work with exotic materials and designs. He'd been happy enough to forge a glaive, as most of the requests were for armor or swords or shields, but had waxed poetic while he worked about his life-long dream to work with dragon scale and dragon bone. Greagoir had left with the impression that Wade was hopeful that the Knight-Commander would be attacked by, and of course defeat, a dragon and bring him such wonderful materials.

And Greagior always said that I had MY head in the clouds.

The rest of the trip went without incident and we arrived around noon to Denerim that day. Everyone seemed to show various levels of excitement, save for Sten who kept his stoic expression. I looked around and then nodded to myself before carefully splitting some of our funds amongst the others.

"First thing's first," I said. "Get yourselves better gear, each of you. Bodahn and Levi have us set for food and some potion supplies if we need it but they only had a little bit in the way of armor and weapons. They might get better gear while they are here but let's not chance it. Alistair, your with me for the moment. Stay in pairs and stay out of trouble."

Leliana and Zev went off together, Sten went with Morrigan and Mongrel stayed with me and Alistair. Alistair started to pull off his helmet and I yanked it back down. I tapped my own helmeted head with a frown.

"Keep it on. We don't need to be recognized at a glance."

"Ah, right."

Following Alistair's suggestion from earlier we made a bee-line for Wade's Emporium. We opened the door and started inside, only to plaster ourselves to the wall next to the door as a rather tall, darkskinned and balding man threw a younger man out of the shop. A shorter, blonde and blue eyed man stood near the counter, hands rubbing together nervously.

"And you STAY out! If you have a problem with MY Herren then you don't get to shop here!" yelled the taller man with a high, womanish voice. A suit of armor followed the man out the door. "And take this rubbish with you! It is not worthy enough for me to look at let alone work on!"

Ignoring myself and Alistair the tall man made his way over to the shorter man, Herren, and drew him into a hug.

"Are you alright? That mean old bitty didn't hurt you did he? Honestly, the nerve of that fiend!"

"Wade," Herren said as he pushed the taller man away and plastered on a strained smile. "Wade! I'm fine! We have customers! We'll talk later."

"What? Customers?" Wade turned to look at us and puffed up suddenly. "Do you two have ANYTHING bad to say?"

"No sir!" both of us said reflexivly at the same time. Alistair due to his Templar-specific training, myself due to my training with a Templar. You get certain responses drilled into your head...

"Good, good!" Wade clapped his hands together and became all smiles. "What can I help you young men with, hmm? Something unique perhaps?"

"Wade..." Herren started in an exsaperated tone.

"Actually, yes," I said.

"What!?" Herren shouted.

"Really?! Truly? Let me see!" Wade all but clapped his hands with excitement.

I took out the star-metal sky-rock and set in on the countertop. Both of then stared at it for several long moments before Wade leaned closer.

"Oh... oh oh oh..." he breathed and he spoke with an awed reverence. "Star-metal!"

He fainted a moment later.

-=-=*/*/*=-=-

I wanted to actually add a little more to this chapter but this just felt right for this one. hope you all enjoy