Magic and the Inquistion

by Battleship Vytalia

Finding himself in a fucked up fantasy word, a wizard has to find a way to get back to his own universe. All that stands in his way, are demons, a mage-templar war, a great big fucking hole in the sky, a civil war in knockoff France, a female elf mage who finds him fascinating, and an ancient human mage who is in severe need of a makeover

21. Chapter 21 Cleaning up the mess

HI I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO COME OUT, i'VE BEEN HAVING PROBLEMS WITH UPLOADING WITH FANFICTION, THIS WAS MEANT TO COME OUT FAR EALRIER THEN IT SHOULD HAVE AND THE PROBLEM HAS ONLY JUST BEEN FIXED.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PAITENCE AND KNOW THAT THIS UPLOAD IS ACTUALLY CHAPTERS 21 AND 22

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Dragonage or anything else I may reference

Magic and the Inquisition

Chapter 21 Cleaning up the mess

Haven

Concern was the most prominent emotion that Nat felt as he approached the site that should be Haven. Having escaped the forest without any more hassle, he had quickly moved west hoping to arrive at Haven as quickly as he could even going so far as to entirely avoid Redcliffe so he could reach the place faster. However as he continued to walk down the old dirt paths, he had become very aware of the lack of any sentries.

Even without his magic, he was more than alert enough to not notice the odd person who might be hiding behind a bush or crouched behind a hedge line. In the case of the Inquisition agent's, they liked to hide behind certain large piles of stone that had long since tumbled down the Frostback mountains and then turned to a smoother texture as the winds blasted into it. On the other hand, the agents were not so foolish as to hide in the same place for too long and therefore would attach some leaves to their armour and hide in the few trees that lounged the area. Despite this knowledge, he could not locate a single member of the inquisition anywhere he looked and neither could he see a single track of a wagon that would indicate any recent trade.

As he got closer, however, his vision enhanced by the magical tactical glasses he saw spotted something sticking out of the thick heavy white snow. Nat drew his pistol and brought it close to his chest. Moving slowly so as to make the least amount of noise as possible and not give his position away to anyone or anything that might be watching, the young wizard approached the item.

It was a hand he realised. Covered in a metal gauntlet of high quality, Nat immediately knew that this was not anything that a usual member of the Inquisition would wear. Gripping it tightly with one hand as his eyes scoured the countryside scanning for any possible observers, he proceeded to give the arm a big heave. As the body was pulled out, Nat was immediately put on caution as he saw just who the armour belonged to.

Templars

Nat swore to himself as he saw the image of the sword surrounded by flame on the centre of the man's chest. Bending down to inspect the body, he was immediately put on a state of heightened alert. Though he was not trained in the skill of inspecting dead bodies due to his career path not being that of an auror or any other form of police work that would regularly involve looking over the lifeless corpses that were once men and women, he could use common logic to deduce that this body was unusual.

His first clue was that around the abdomen on the body, there was a big red splotch of blood obviously indicating where the man had been sliced through by some weapon. However, as he lowered his glove covered hand towards the wound's location, he became very aware that the piece of the Templars that it was under, specifically the red sash did not have a single scratch on it. This could be excused at first with the idea that perhaps the weapon used had slipped past the sash and then entered the abdomen, but the problem was that the thin leather underneath would have also been punctured through and that was simply not the case of this body.

Removing the helmet of the man, Nat held back the urge to vomit as the smell of rotting flesh swam up his nostrils. The head, was still intact for the most part, darker skin indicating that the man was most likely from the northern reaches of Thedas initially. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be resting slowly as his body decomposed at a slower rate because of the chilly conditions of this mountain. But again this did not matter to Nat as he stared at the man's head.

It was all wrong, male Templar's were at all times supposed to keep a neat trim of hair with it not extending out so much. Like in the militaries back home, this was done with the practical purpose of preventing hair from getting in the way or to be used against oneself in a fist fight. This man, however, had hair that was at least twice if not their times the regulated hair length and then there was the large amount of facial hair which again according to Cullen was not supposed to be allowed.

There was no excuse for such a cause of action, Templar's at least according to Cullen were incredibly strict on this kind of thing and if a soldier was to lower them self to this kind of standard, then there would surely be consequences. A Templar with this lack of grooming would be the same as him trying to blend into a military base with his own far longer hair. He might be able to get away with is if he prevented anyone from getting to close and did it up in a cute bow or something, but ultimately it would fail.

Finally, however, he came across the last clue he needed to indicate much to his growing suspicion that this was some kind of trap used to set up agents of the Inquisition. The boot's that had been placed on the man's legs had been done so in a piss poor manner that could easily be dragged of the feet and obviously would not stay on in a battle. Obviously, they had been put on in a hurry without much thought put into them.

Sighing loudly, Nat wondered just how far these people had gone to implicate some other group as Templars. In all honesty, it was a shoddy job and anyone with any actual experience could probably tell by the man's state of dress that he was not a Templar. On the other hand, however, the average peasant likely wouldn't be able to.

This was well before the time of internet, smartphones, tv, mass reading or comics. The average person likely had no idea whatsoever was an average Templar looked like underneath their armour and even far less likely to know how they did their training or their standards. This very likely meant, that whoever had placed the body hear had done so with the intention of luring in those who were not aware of military customs into their trap.

The question that Nat now had to find out an answer for, is that why would people want to lure others into a trap around Haven. Obviously, he could already tell by the lack of Inquisitions agents and trade wagons that he had already failed to alert the base of the coming attack. Perhaps that was why the Templars were leaving fake corpses into the valley, they wanted to bring any agents who might have been away at the time back into the base and kill them while they had the chance to do so.

He narrowed his eyes at the thought before then turning back to the seemingly innocent road. The Templars were nothing more them petty thugs now, with lack of Chantry support they were reduced to having to rob money, food and goods from traders, another possible reason as to why the Templars had set up a fake dead body.

If others believed that the Inquisition had won the fight or were of the opinion that they could scavenge of a battlefield, then would very like play into the Templar's hands. Just what would be done to them afterwards however he could not answer. Perhaps they were killed for looting, perhaps they were conscripted, maybe they were used as target practice or in some strange universe they were taken to an all exclusive two-week cruise around the Caribbean.

He sighed again as he stared at the road. He knew it was a trap, once he was out of sight of the main road and any other passing wagons, that the Templars and their agents were bound to swoop in an attempt to kill him, but on the other hand, he had a responsibility to the Inquisitions. As one of its commanders, it was his responsibility to put the lives of his underlings first and ensure their survival as best as possible or in a more realistic case, to end them of their misery. More importantly, though, he had to make an effort to look for survivors.

If Valeyna was alive and somewhere else then he needed to know where she was so he could track her down at a later date, if she was alive but still buried under the rubble, then he had to rescue her before it was too late. If she was dead, however, then he would need to give her some kind of funeral and pay his respects to her. Merlin knew what would happen if the Templars had killed her and got a hold of her body, probably parade it around or sent it back to their Ancient Tevinter Magister where her head would be put on a stick and the rest fed to demons.

That was something he wouldn't allow, even if she was dead she was a symbol of hope to many people. To then be used as nothing more then some kind of trophy to be shown off to others was something that made his blood boil. He'd kill every last one of these Templar bastards he swore. Whether Valeyna was alive or dead, he would show the enemies of the Inquisition just what the price was when they became their enemies.

With a final glance towards the dead man, Nat did the best thing he could think of to give him some respect in his death. Gingerly he took the arms of the man together and crossed them on his chest and closed his eyes. Finally, he snatched the red sash from his body and bunched it together where he then placed it underneath his head. With nothing more practical that he could do, he raised himself back onto his legs and put away his pistol allowing him to focus his two hands on his rifle.

Nodding his head lightly as he gazed back into the direction that he had left more than two weeks ago when he had first left for Orzammar, Nat gave a check of his rifle and made sure it was ready. Once that was done, he dashed over into the snow-covered hills and rocks to the side of the main path allowing his camouflaged clothing to help him hide in the local scenery. It would be foolish to approach from a frontal direction, his combat skills were only impressive because he had magic, once that was taken away he was the same as any other mortal man.

It didn't take long to get into a visual range of Haven for Nat, by now he knew the general area and as such it was easy to avoid the increasing Templar patrols. There weren't that many of them, then again it wasn't as if he was trying to infiltrate their secret base but rather he was more inclined to see what remained of the Inquisitions base. As such, the Templars that were in the deep craggy area before Haven were not as alert as they should have been and most were too afraid to leave the fires that had been placed keeping them rather localised. Though as Nat finally was able to locate the place that should have been the main encampment, he came to the feeling that the Templar's needn't have bothered that much.

The entire camp was just gone.

There were no white tents flapping harshly in the strong winds occasionally catching some poor servant and slapping them harshly, there were no tall trees that stood high and mighty as they dotted around the area and most importantly, there was no main stone building that housed the Inquisitions most vital assets and individuals.

All that remained, was snow.

Admittedly, Nat liked snow it was pretty and rare, an indication of when the cold season had come and when long bright days had finally turned to short dark ones. The cool crisp air would wake him up first thing in the morning as he went out for his morning run allowing him to start the day quicker rather than so many others who slogged it out and would rather stay in bed where the call of warmth invaded their minds. But now, he couldn't help but feel that he had lost that connection to the snow.

It was one thing to theoretically understand something, and another to actually experience it. He knew that winter was dangerous in this place, he knew that it could be destructive and that avalanches were incredibly lethal, hell he'd even frozen people over with a Glacius spell, but it was nothing compared to seeing this. The entire area had gained several feet of just pure white to the point where none of the once defining marks was even present anymore.

There weren't any signs of battle either in the area, no corpses whether that be animal or human frozen and pale, no wagons tipped over and their goods spoiled, no flags fluttering harshly in the wind like some kind of last huzzah in death, just snow.

A flickering of movement soon grabbed Nat's notice. Squinting his eyes, he watched carefully as in the distance something white was being lifted into the air and then thrown without care onto the other side. Concern struck the wizard straight away as he recognised just where the Templar's were digging, right above the main entrance to the old stone building.

It was obvious what they desired, the stone building had been the only place that would be considered suitable to keep precious documents and other resources. There guarded by Templars and other soldiers, any thief would be given a hard time if they tried to take something that was not there's. Now however there was nobody there to guard such treasured secrets, they were right for the picking and far more dangerous they could be exploited.

He gritted his teeth at the idea of the Templar bastards getting their hands on such information. He had no doubt that in the case of an attack, Leliana and Josephine would make an attempt to either destroy, hide or take away any such information with them, but the threat was ultimately too dangerous. Whether the Inquisition members lived on or not was irrelevant in this scenario, he could not allow that info to fall into the hands of the enemy.

On the other hand, he could use such valuable info, if the Inquisition was destroyed and the enemy had dealt a devastating blow essentially crushing all opposition to them, then a resistance group would have to be formed. He doubted he would join, he had only joined the Inquisition because of Solas and stayed because of the amount of responsibility that was heaped upon him; with the inquisition gone he was free of such commitments. And joining a new group was a foolish idea, the enemy likely already knew who he was and his joining of a cause would probably bring unwanted attention to any resistance group that may exist.

Then again, perhaps the Inquisition had survived in some form or another in which case, any remaining documents or coin that could be taken would likely be of significant assistance when he finally managed to regroup with them. Information like backers of the Inquisition, names of agents and their current assignments, secret deals and other military routes and tactics as well as weapon designs were all of vital use in the war and could all be turned against them should the enemy ever get hold of them.

Merlin, he was thankful that he was so careful with his own stuff if the enemy had gotten the blueprints for muskets, cannons and gunpowder, then the Inquisition would have been in real trouble. Luckily, he had kept that lot secret so the likelihood of him having to fight enemies who also had guns was pretty low but again that only reconfirmed the fact that he needed to advance firearms more than he already had.

This type of disaster could have been avoided if the Inquisition had more powerful weapons at its disposal, weapons that would make any army flee in terror and if not turn them mad with their use. How many Templars could have been cut down if instead of running down the sides of a cliff into an empty area, they had instead been pelted by thousands of bullets and they scream as an artillery shell pass by their ear and blew up a metre behind them obliterating their ally behind them? And that creature that the Old God had shown him, if it had been a dragon then the power of flak and other artillery guns would have torn it out of the sky itself forcing it to crash where it could then be disposed of. And then there were gas and flamethrowers, both could have been used in such a manner to buy time for others who might have been on the edges of the camp to escape.

How many lives could he have saved?

Now if the Inquisition was still intact, then it was likely broken requiring a substantial amount of time for it to repair itself before it could continue on the fight against this ancient enemy. And in that time, more would suffer. Husbands were bound to be stripped from their children and forced to fight in a war, elves were likely taken as slaves and forced into slavery if not just killed for the magic of their blood.

So many were going to die now, and all because he could not prevent it. He had the ability to give the Inquisition an incredibly powerful edge that would destroy the enemy if he focused his attention and time on that one project. Instead, however, he had been playing around, having useless conversations and completing idle jobs that he was not suited for like playing diplomat. He felt his hand squeeze in anger at just what had happened to Valeyna and the others.

If his magic had recovered, then he simply could have cast a point me spell and this whole problem of not knowing where the woman was would be over. Instead, though, he was now prone on the white snow as he watched the comings and goings as Templar's attempted to access whatever secrets they could. Then again, he guessed he should have been thankful he was dealing with Templars and not mages, the latter would have easily melted through the snow by now and breached the inner sanctum of the old Inquisition Headquarters.

Still, though, the Templar's would breach it sooner or later if they weren't stopped in their current progress, the only problem was that he couldn't handle these men and women in an outright confrontation. It was going to be difficult he knew, he hadn't been trained in stealth and despite his training with Cullen, his sword skills were nothing to brag about when compared to Templars. Those men and women had been brought up with a sword in one hand and a deep burning hatred of all things magical in the other. Neither were his rifles going to work, they were too loud and after he had gotten the first few shots off, the enemy would recognise the need to take cover and advance whilst he was distracted. Archery was also entirely out of the question, he'd never so much as picked up the weapon in his life let alone have the required skills to use such a weapon competently.

If he was going to do this, then he needed the ability to approach quietly without drawing suspicion where before the Templars could react he could cut them down. He groaned to himself as he realised what this was going to require. It was bad enough that he was going to have to wear old itchy medieval clothing, but it was worse when one realised that he was going to have to wear the clothing off a dead body. He shook his head at his own disbelief at what he was going to do before he then finally descended down the snowy incline and back to the dead body.

Striping the man out of his Templar uniform, Nat soon found himself messing with armour and weapons that he had never touched or worn before. Frankly, it was a bit too uncomfortable for him, all this armour everywhere. It wasn't as restricting as the common myths about the medieval period made it out to be, and the same could be said about its weight yet compared to the range of movement he was used to, he did feel limited somewhat.

Magic duelling despite all the different styles there were, relied heavily on movement. Most of the time this was far more about the arms and legs as too much clothing could restrict the movement or slow a person down or make them itch and cause their mind to get distracted. It was also required for any and all duellists, that their hands had absolute freedom and had infinite movement as certain spells required very precise hand movements which again could be stopped freedom doing if a glove got in the way.

As such, when he had finally managed to get onto the oversized gauntlets, he couldn't help but feel that someone had just applied a numbing charm to his fingers as they felt so restricted and useless as they did right now. None the less, he had soon managed to put on the armour even if it did look several sizes too big for him due to it being fitted for men rather then teenagers. Attaching his sabre to his side, he then scoured the local area for a standard Templars sword and shield before then setting off down the dirt road.

Having already scouted out the local area, he knew the rough distance between each of the Templars little campfires, and could, therefore, estimate roughly how long it would take for another camp to hear any sounds of combat if things did get exceptionally loud. If that did occur, then he just hoped that the spells he had applied to his sabre could compensate for his lack of prowess.

Marching up the snow-covered road, he was soon spotted by the first lot of Templars who gave him a friendly wave and beckoned him forwards. Approaching the group, Nat watched as the few Templar's who had taken their helmets off in order to escape the feeling of freezing biting metal rubbing against their ears, took a small laugh at his appearance.

"By the Maker, look what we have here?" A Templar in his early thirties joked good-naturedly as he saw the small looking Templar approach.

"Look's like someone's a little excited" Another responded to the joke shaking their head as they saw what must have been an obvious child or young person approach their camp with some force of speed.

Entering the clearing, Nat soon found himself stopped by a few of the other Templars as they took more time to giggle at his form of dress. True he looked rather stupid and there was no chance he would fool anyone that actually suspected who he was, but these Templar's were cold, damp and very likely hungry even as they sat by the fire hoping to their make-believe friend that their cold bodies would me bade warmer by the fire of the Makers love or some bullshit story like that.

"Sir" Nat immediately fell into one of Theda's salutes were he locked his arms across his chest and bowed. "Templar recruit Mathew Williams reporting for service sir" The Templar's laughed one of them, even so, going as far as to give a mocking response and demanded that their fellow Templar's bow down to him in respect as he had seemingly been promoted all of a sudden.

"What you doing here kid, and where you get that armour" Poking the fire, the Templar gestured towards an old cart that they had previously pulled out of the avalanche and were now using as both a seat and as the wood to their fire. Soon they knew they were going to have to get new wood, but with a new recruit, they could leave it to him.

"It was my father's sir," Nat said adding a bit of pride in his voice. "He was a brave man, helped to keep the world safe from demons. I want to be just like him" The men's face dropped slightly as they heard that. Mockery son turned to sorrow as they began to hear the story that they had all heard too many times before. "My Father was a Templar in Honleath, he was a good man, but when the mages came and asked for shelter he refused and told them to return back to the circle. The... the mages they... they didn't like that." Nat's voice seemingly broke into a painful display forcing one of the Templars to get out of their seat and offer him a piece of bread.

"It's okay kid, we can guess the rest. Here come sit with us, we'll talk to our commander and see if we can put you in for training" It was soothing words, Nat knew, had his story been true then he very likely would have loved to hear those words which had just come out of the mans mouth, but he had spoken to Cull en before about Templar procedure and the fact of the matter was that at his age he would never be recruited into the order. He was too old Cullen said, Templars preferred their recruits at a younger age in order to indoctrinate them with all the religious stuff as well as all the correct mental attitudes for things like fighting and killing.

It didn't surprise Nat in the slightest that Templars started young, it was a known fact that indoctrination worked best on children as they were still developing as well as that they didn't have a proper idea on morality. From what he had read, child soldiers were so prevalent, because they could be exceedingly cruel and vicious, though this was again because they didn't know any better rather than by design. It also made children tougher soldiers when they became younger. After all, who was going to have a better sense of mental sturdiness, a kid who had to fight and kill others ever since they could pick up a rifle, or a kid that lived in a middle-class family with constant access to food, shelter and luxury.

In this case, it was likely why the Templars were so cruel, they didn't know any better and were therefore very unlikely to correct it simply because somebody who they saw as a threat or weaker then they complained. Some would call it a cruel fate, but ultimately, he had to say that he would do the same to children that if he were in the Templars position. To fight an enemy like mages, you had to fight as dirty as you can and stack every possible advantage against a person who can fling fireballs at you whenever they so desired. It was probably why they despised the idea of mages training in close combat, the moment a mage could fight with a sword was the moment that a Templar lost their main advantage.

As was the case with these Templars.

As soon as the Templar had placed a gentle hand on Nat's shoulder and took to the cart that they had previously been sitting on and leaving him a place, the Templars had dropped their guard. It cost them their lives since with their attention locked onto the fire instead of the Inquisition agent disguised as one of their numbers, he silently drew his sabre and brought it at head height. A single slash was all he needed to decapitate all of them in one strike, the enchantments on the blade to keep it incredibly sharp had seen to that.

With nothing but a gentle thump, the heads of the men who had served the Templar order dropped to the ground whilst the bodies slumped down and began coating the snow underneath it entirely red.

The next lot of Templars he came across acted roughly the same way, they seemed surprised at first by a teenager in Templar armour, but the eager tone that Nat gave off about joining their group soon dropped their guard. Quickly they humouring his "dreams" of becoming a Templar and as soon as the turned their backs, the next thing they felt was that of cold steel slicing straight through their flesh and bone. Of course one or two could only watch in horror as they watched their friend's head roll of their body or for a piece of metal to emerge from their chest, but they were too slow to react any more before the blade plunged into them.

This pattern would repeat itself a few times with groups that were just lounging around, a fire to that of those pairs of guards who were patrolling and were swiftly cut down. Finally, after having killed Templar after Templar, Nat approached the top of the largest mound of snow and quietly joined in with the rest of the Templars.

Now closer to the digging site, he could see that the Templars weren't the ones who were doing the digging, but rather their elf servants. They weren't in very good condition he noted swiftly, their skin was battered and bruised likely as some form of punishment from their Templar overlords wasn't they were also deathly pale and incredibly think with no fat in their body to insulate them. One in particular elf he saw was a young girl, at most, she was likely no older than eight years old however that meant nothing to the Templars as they watched her silently as she shovelled load after a load of white snowy stuff.

She was here with her family he saw, a mother whose hands had gone entirely numb and a father that was seemingly approaching death's door was also assisting the Templars effort. None of them had any winter gear, instead, it appeared more as the Templars had simply snatched them from their home on some trumped up charge and then brought them here.

From his position, Nat fixed his eyes on the Templar commander. A stern looking woman, the commander would occasionally giver one of her soldiers a bit of a shakeup as she demanded that they glare at the low life elf mage helpers and state that they had gotten what they deserved. Nat wanted to approach her and take her out first, however, he got the immediate feeling that attempting such a thing would result in more in his own death than hers. With her gait and temperament, she could likely sidestep any obvious blow he might throw at her and then cut his head off.

With a plan already in mind, he subtly brought out a few of his makeshift explosive devices. To even the trained observer they would call his explosive devices basic. The devices were created of four test tubes each of which had been filled to the brim with gun powder and a few small sharp looking stones with a piece of string that went in through the top of the test tube and would then detonate the device. They weren't exactly pieces of C4, but they would most certainly get the job done over a limited range so long as people weren't looking.

Quickly reaching into his pocket, he grabbed a primitive lighter that he had created in case Gerald had ever wanted to test what gunpowder could do on its own and lit the pieces of flammable string. With little time to spare, he aimed one of the devices at the commander and lobbed where soon after he then threw the other explosives so that they would land at the feet of the other Templars. Once complete, he wasted to time in leaping into the nicely dug trench that the elves had made gripping the side tightly as he did so.

"All right which one of you inbred dog bastards threw this" The commander yelled as she picked up the test tube that had landed at her feet. "You think this is funny, messing around with string and some kind of black powder. Trust me when I find the one responsible, I will have their ass on my shiny golden plate"

Boom

In an instant, the sound of four explosions sent the men into a panic as sharp objects smashed straight through what should have been protective armour and obliterated their flesh. The commander had the worse of it as the impact of the blast annihilated her clenched hand entirely, blowing it off her body whilst the stones now sped up by a great amount of force flew into the middle of her skull and smashed straight through her skull and into her brain.

In the confusion, as the snow was sent skyward and the prisoners in the trench fell to the ground in a blind panic, Nat gripped the edge of the trench sabre in hand and heaved himself over. He rushed over to the first Templar he saw and slashed at his heavy armour and sliced straight through it with the ease of a hot knife through butter sending the Templars guts all over the place. Immeadtly afterwards, he got to the next Templar who had fallen to the ground from the blast, their leg had been entirely torn off and was now nothing but a red stump that they clutched tightly and screamed in agony. A single stab to the head solved that problem.

The next Templar, however, had managed to realise what was going on and charged straight at him. Unfortunately for the Templar, Nat's enchanted blade was faster and even as threw Templar put up[ a block that should have prevented a normal sword, the extra sharpness on a magical blade cleaved through the steel and straight through the helmet into the head. Nat approached the commander next. Wanting to ensure that the biggest threat had indeed been taken out, he gave a quick flick of his blade to her exposed throat and sliced it open. After that, the rest of the battle became a very quick slaughter as Nat rapidly dispatched already downed and weakened foes before they could either recover or when they were down.

Within only two minutes, over twenty Templars were dead.

"You can come out now," Nat said calmly approaching the trench as he did so. Gazing down, he saw the still petrified expression on the small girls face. She had covered her ears with her hands in some vain effort to protect them from the loud noise that had likely hurt,

"Who are you" The girl's father bit back rapidly as he narrowed his beautiful eyes onto the ill-dressed Templar.

"You're free to go back to your homes," Nat said swiftly. The elf man narrowed his eye in suspicion before then with a seeming leap of courage he pulled himself out of the trench and stared with horror covered eyes at the carnage above.

"You killed them?" The man's tone broke not with joy as he normally would have felt, but with fear. Everything had gone so fast, one moment he was trying to keep his family alive and the next thing, he heard some loud explosion followed by the sounds of men dying and swords tearing through flesh.

"All of them" Nat answered swiftly. Before he said anything else, however, he brought his hand into his jacket pocket and retrieved his wallet. Opening up the piece of fabric, he proceeded to draw out a few coins before then putting away his wallet. "Take these, it should cover the cost of a wagon and food to get back to wherever you came from as well as anything else you might need" Then without waiting for any sign of protest, he proceeded to give three sovereigns to the family as well as a few more to the other poor sods who had been forced here against their will.

"I can't-" A stern look from Nat shut the man up as he glanced towards the daughter forcing the man to follow where the man then began to tear up. Clutching his daughter tightly, the man gave a grateful smile to his rescuer before he then hoisted himself and the rest of his family out. Once he was out, he then looked at the young man who had saved him from this predicament. "My lord might I know the name of our saviour so I know who to thank"

"I'm afraid not" Nat responded swiftly. "In the meantime, I hope that all of you have a safe travel back to your home"

"We will, thank you lord thank the Maker" A brief itch of irritation ran through Nat's body as he heard that phrase. Imaginary friends had nothing to do with their rescue, it had been his actions no one else's. Internally he shook his head as he thought back to the poor doctors and nurses back home, they spent several years at school, college and University all to achieve the knowledge that was required before then finally graduating and joining a hospital and start saving lives only for asshole to claim that it was the work of some invisible person rather than their own. In all honesty, Nat was half tempted to snatch the gold sovereigns out of the man's hand and push him back into the trench for that comment, however, he didn't.

"I think it's best that you leave and I would appreciate it if you told nobody I was here" The man nodded happily at the order before he then focused his attention onto where his freedom was located. Without another word he tapped his wife and daughter and began directing them away from the cold snowy place that was Haven leaving Nat alone.

The moment that the group of people had finally left his visual sight, Nat began to get to work. Unlike the workers however who had been dragged from Merlin knew where and were then given a shovel and promptly told to dig, Nat had no intention of getting to his goal the long and arduous way. He'd killed several Templars to get here after all and with the time of the next inspection being unknown, he'd rather get what he needed and then left.

To accomplish this goal, he withdrew some more of his homemade explosive devices, with any luck they would blast away all the mounds of snow that were covering up the building and leave it exposed enough for him to then plant another charge in the door and blow it off its hinges. On the other hand, there was the risk that he could cause another avalanche or destroy the building itself but he couldn't afford to take his time with this.

Luckily, the workers who had been mandated to start digging had actually made a decent and rather frightening amount of process before they had been freed. Already they had discovered the front door to the building and was why they had been digging such a vast trench. A few more hours Nat reckoned and they likely would have dug to the dirt enabling the Templars to install a set of ladders and enter the old building.

Placing his makeshift explosives a few metres away from the door and on the higher elevation, Nat set the charges and then sprinted as fast as he could away from the devices. Just like before when he had thrown the explosives at the Templars feet, there was a loud booming explosion throwing a huge column of snow in all directions. Nat, hidden behind a small incline in snow as best as he could, raised his head and stared at the damage he had done. He grinned.

Unlike the previous explosives, these ones possessed no small rocks which could act as fragmentation grenades, instead, they had more powder making them more powerful. This was seen very much in the way that after the snow had fallen to the ground and the area became visible again, a wide and deep crater could be clearly seen.

Nat not wanting to waste time or allow the sky to turn dark where inevitably creatures of the night such as wolves would begin to hunt him down likely hoping to make him a snack soon jumped into the crater and slammed into a small hole in the door another one of his explosives. Just like before, there was no hitch except for the loud crash as the heavy oak doors were blown off their hinges and smashed into the floor giving him access.

As he stepped inside the vast lightless building, Nat drew his pistol once again and kept it close. Thanks to his magically enhanced tactical glasses, he did not gain that sudden jolt of fear that one saw in films where a person entire vision was limited to a small area by torchlight whether it be electrical or more old fashioned with wood and fire. Instead, as the glasses began to take on a green hue showcasing perfectly to the wizard just what lay within, Nat couldn't help but feel slightly confident.

After walking in a few steps, however, that confidence turned to a small amount of guilt as the first thing he saw were a pile of corpses huddled together under some sort of clothing. There were faces gaunt and fearful, Nat surmised that they must have died from either hunger or the extreme cold. Shaking his head at the fate of the poor sods who had managed to get trapped into the building, Nat soon stepped over their lifeless bodies and made a quick beeline to where he knew Josephine's office would be located.

The door as he expected of Josephine, was locked very tightly and the key was nowhere to be found. Tugging on the handle, he felt for any possible weaknesses, there were none and neither were there on the rest of the doors. He frowned, he likely wouldn't be able to smash the door down, Josephine had managed to bar it in some way although how he was entirely unaware of. He sighed, he'd have to use explosives again to deal with the problem.

Instead of planting explosives instantly, however, Nat instead decided to explore the rest of the building. It was a case of securing the building in his mind, having just arrived he had no idea of what remained in the building and that was a dramatic flaw which could hinder him if he made a mistake. Blowing up the door to Joesphine's office was bound to set of some kind of loud noise and if as he had a grave suspicion, that demons or undead corpses were nearby, then that would alert them to his presence.

As he descended the last cold grey steps into the dungeon, his pistol kept in front of him in a comfortable grip. Water dripped from the ceiling creating a constant rhythmic noise as it spawned an icy puddle beneath it. The walls themselves had always been cool to the touch, but as he walked further and further into the dungeons his feet trying to make as little noise as possible, Nat could see that the walls looked like that they had been coated entirely in ice. He frowned when he noticed the way that the ice had been applied to the walls. It was uneven with the centre having large jutting icicles poking out of its side, this wasn't natural ice, this had been cast with magic.

The question was, who had done it and why.

Suddenly he heard the sound of something scampering away in the distance. Nat twisted rapidly and trained his gun on the direction only to see nothing there. He narrowed his eyes dangerously and stopped his body from moving anymore, Haven was a battleground now, people had fought and died here in large enough numbers that the veil was bound to have been made weaker than it already was with the presence of the Breach.

Gently, Nat retrieved one of the many marbles that he carried with him for transfiguration and held it in his hand. With his gun raised still in front of him though, Nat looked in every which direction he could think, left, right up and down there was no way he was going to allow something to just leap at him from nowhere and take it by surprise.

No other noise came, however, no scattering, no wailing o any other sound that one might have expected that would come from one of the many horror movies that came from Earth. There was absolutely nothing but dead silence and the occasional frosty breath of a wizard as he strayed entirely still and scanned the area.

It must have gone further in Nat thought as he kept his eyes locked onto the corner that would lead him onto another set of the dungeons. Whether to hide or to alert its friends he did not know, but he was more than aware that in such a tight confined space, he had very little room to manoeuvre should a fight break out. At most he had maybe two shots if he could reload quick enough and his sword whilst useful and would cut straight through the rock and iron of this place, was a bit too long and would cost him his life. That left unarmed combat and the knife he had on him. He drew the knife.

He wasn't any kind of expert with this weapon, in fact, he had very minimal training in the use of such a small weapon, but the fact remained hat having a weapon was better than not having a weapon at all. The knife itself was fine, not particularly heavy and it was both small and sharp enough that he would have an easier time in worming it through the gaps of a reanimated corpses armour, but other than that it was nothing special. As he finished his quick look over the blade, he made a mental note that if Cullen was alive to ask for some training in the weapon. Then again, he could ask Sera however that woman was more likely to over him in lard followed by flour and chicken feathers then she was to actually assist him in learning how to stab people. And even if she could behave long enough to teach, the number of bloody inuendos she was going to go through, already he could imagine her teasing him.

"Oh, you want to learn to stab someone" He imagined the elf grin "Why? hoping to show the Herald just how good your stabby skills are?." He resisted the urge to groan, not Sera definitely not Sera. , on the other hand, was bound to be a better choice, he was bound to have faced a large amount of knife-wielding psychopaths and therefore knew what their weaknesses were. There was also Cassandra, but he got the feeling that her faith to the Chantry would likely limit her in what she would teach him lest he becomes too dangerous. Nat nodded, it'd probably be best if he didn't tell her that he had killed one of the old Gods and captured an Ancient Magister, she might get a bit suspicious.

Nat was soon returned to reality however as the scampering noise that he had heard earlier returned only this time it had gotten slightly louder. Recognising his chance, Nat lobbed the marble that he had retrieved as far as he could in a forward direction. Now into the air, the marble began to make a small whooshing noise as it brushed past the local molecules before then finally slamming into the ground with a loud crack before then bouncing upwards a metre before then falling gown again where it smashed onto the ground and cracked again this followed three more times until the small ball lost enough momentum and instead simply rolled over the old stone floor making a loud noise as it did so.

As the marble had smashed into the ground drawing whatever was in here with his attention, Nat began to ever so slowly advance to where the marble lay. He was going to have to be quick, if he messed around or fucked up then he could have an unknown amount of dead corpses scrambling for his blood. All of a sudden the scampering noised cease forcing Nat's eyes to widen ever so slightly as his mind began to imagine a ridiculous amount of possible threats. Just before he could push it down, a loud unnatural scream echoed from the corridor to the side followed by the noise of feet slamming hard against the floor.

Nat braced himself quietly, his dagger was outstretched forward ready to be thrust into the flesh of the first creature that he came across whilst his pistol if required could let off a shot which would puncture all tissue and obliterate bone into small tiny fragments that muggles would likely crush down and then sell as some type of herbal remedy. Daft twats.

What emerged from the darkness, was just s Nat had expected. It had been a man once, or more specifically a prisoner that had been dragged in by Inquisition guards a few days before he had left for Orzammar. The chest of the now undead creature was bloody from where he assumed somebody else trapped in this building had killed the man in a likely desire to reduce the amount of food that would have to be rationed. It's exposed flesh on the arms, however, were rotting with rather large and black oozing balls of blackness whilst it's left shoulder sparked red from where a piece of Red Lyrium had been infused.

That didn't make any sense, why would a prisoner be subjected to Red Lyrium. Had an enemy spy infiltrated the Inquisition and began to experiment on Templars when nobody was lucking? He seriously doubted it, such a display would easily be noticed by one of the other guards if not Leliana considering how much time she spent "interrogating" them. Perhaps it had grown naturally then, red Lyrium was corrupted by the blight and perhaps that was why this man was infected. The guard could have been exposed to the blight or Red Lyrium before he was taken in as some ploy to infect the core of the Inquisition with the blight virus. Then again, the Lyrium might have spread from on top of the old conclave like a parasite of some kind.

He returned to the matter at hand shortly after. The person now on his hands and knees moving more like he was an animal than a person, approached the marble and began feeling around with its thin arms. As it did so, it growled to itself as it seemingly tried to look for something that was something bigger than a marble, yet no matter how many times it slapped its abused palms against the stone inflicting injury upon itself the creature could not find the small glass marble.

Nat gave a slight smile. The creature was blind or the darkness was too much for it to see in not that it mattered, he could sneak past the creature if he wanted to. Not that he needed to as after a few more seconds of hand beating, the creature found the small marble and with a sound like he had a frog stuck at that back of its throat promptly proceeded to take the small ball lick it tasting the strange texture before then promptly swallowing.

The creature choked violently. Craning its head back, the monster tried to vomit up the item that it had eaten in a violent thrashing motion however the marble as an object which could not really be broken refused to budge instead just staying where it was. And continued to choke the creature.

Seeing the opportunity that had been presented to him, Nat dashed over the floor making far more noise then he should do, alerting the creature to his presence. However, despite the creature being alert, the marble at its throat prevented it from worrying as it floundered all over the place, smashing it's back against the wall and its chest against the floor all of which was accompanied by the sound of gargling and heavy coughing and wheezing. Therefore when Nat got closer, he had no resistance as he slashed fiercely at the creatures exposed flesh, ripping it wide open and allowing the guts of the former human to come spilling out. Straight afterwards Nat then delivered a second strike to the creature's throat where the cold steel came in one end and came out the other killing the creature.

Though he withdrew this blade from the now very dead creature, Nat did not feel any more at ease as he cleaned the blade. If this prisoner had been taken over by a demon, then it was possible that other places might have their own little monsters as well. Looking down as the prisoner, he sneered at the corpse, it was bad enough that the man had caught the Inquisition once, but to then have to be killed a second time by the same organisation was just bad luck. Then again, if the man hadn't of been an enemy, then he wouldn't decorate the floor.

Stepping over the corpse with his knife still in hand, Nat proceeded to make his way through the rest of the stone halls until finally, he came upon the main part of the actual dungeon itself. The moment he arrived, he was put on guard as his eyes took in a rather concerning sight.

There in the main part of the dungeon, were large glowing spire of red Lyrium. Each and every single one was seemingly growing off anything it could find whether that was the walls or even the occasional corpse he saw. All of it had been corrupted and now that he was in its presence he could feel it trying to reach out and grab him as well, hoping to drag him down into some kind of misery and despair or worse some kind of Darkspawn that would corrupt the land as he plundered and pillaged for normal people.

Though tired and incredibly painful to do so, he raised his occlumency shields allowing him to hold back the onslaught as he continued further into the dungeons though he did so at a far quicker pace. With his magic still exhausted after the first mental onslaught by the old god, he held little belief that he could survive another one so soon, it was why he had shot that elf girl several days ago. If he hadn't been so exhausted, then he would have tried to find another way out, but he couldn't and risking the secrets of the Inquisition on some redheaded elf woman was entirely stupid.

He gave a quick inspection of the lower dungeon checking that those who were dead were, in fact, dead via the method of sticking a knife in their skull. Afterwards, when he was sure that the dungeon had been secured, he took out another bunch of explosives and placed them as gingerly as he could in front of the red crystals not daring to so much as touch them. Luckily he did not need to replace them due to a series of duplication charms ensuring that he would never run out. Once that had been completed, he made another check of the dead even going so far as to rifle through their pockets in case they had any hint or order on them no matter how vague.

Leliana had made sure to drill this into him on one of the times he had spoken to her, she had informed him though he already knew that groups often used hidden codes to hide their orders so other groups would not be able to understand what was happening. The Nightingale herself used them and was why Nat wanted to remove any such documents before the enemy could get a hold of them. He knew exactly what the enemy would do if they could decipher Leiliana's codes, they'd use any and all information against the Inquisition from things like counter-espionage to blackmail against other useful nobles.

These corpses thankfully did not have any orders on them or even any document of paper likely showcasing that before they had met their untimely death, that they did not know how to read making such written orders useless. With that finally done, he headed upwards again so that he entered the main hallway.

It was still empty, thankfully. No new supply of Templars had turned up out of nowhere and there was no fire flinging demons to try and strike him down. Instead, he was met once more with a freezing wind that brushed against his cheek as the wizard gave another glance trying to imagine just what had occurred to the Inquisition.

How many bloody times had he told them that they needed to move? He had pointed out the weakness of such a place for months on end, informing them that against any army wooden palisades would not hold up, that Haven was not a fortress, that the limited amount of trebuchets would not hold a determined enemy back, that they were essentially trapped in a small box with mountains on one side and soldiers on all others. It was a stupid place to set up shop, somewhere more defensive with maybe the ruins of an actual castle would be of far greater use then what they had. Hell, even Ostagar with it's crumbled and abandoned look was still a better place to host an army then some magic forsook village.

Still, he hoped that most of them gotten out, Leliana, Josephine, Cullen, Cassandra, Blackwall, Bull, Varrick, Sera and Solas. They were all vital members who brought valuable things to the Inquisition and despite his own lack of social ability, he didn't want to see them killed as that bloody dragon had shown him. The death the destruction, so many would die if the Inquisition fell and so many more would not be given that luxury, only endless pain. And then there were those other scenes that the demon had shown him, events that he knew nothing about ones that he did not understand as of yet.

He sighed, he wished he owned a pensive then he could relive those memories in far more accuracy then he could now. Had he been gifted an eidetic memory then such a thing would not be required, but there was only so far he could go with Occlumency and it faded so fast that he struggled to recall the vision even at the best of time. All he could do was scrape together a few things and analyse what would happen.

The first one that came to mind, was that image of a perfectly standing Grey Warden stronghold one moment and then nothing but a pile of decimated rubble the next as if it had been devastated by some powerful weapon only the more he thought about it, the more he struggled to piece it together. Such destruction could not be brought about by any current weapon that the men of this realm currently possessed, and the damage did not correlate to that of any spell. By Merlin, he knew what spell damage looked like and it did not look like that, magic, especially of this word, was more primal in nature, the fortress would have had far more burn marks at the least for an assault by mages which left weaponry. However, he had seen no boulders or ballista that would be chucked from catapults and oddly enough the more he concentrated on the image going into a kind of daze like state he thought the damage reminded him of home.

Not from home in the UK, but rather from earth. Britain did have its own fair share of shit piles that it called cities and towns, Birmingham, for instance, sprang to mind but it wasn't that bad compared to the damage he had seen. Instead, the damage reminded him of what he might see on the news in some far of Middle Eastern countries like Syria where cities had been bombed, gasped, exploded, shot at, hailed with artillery and all sorts of other damage. That was the type of damage that he was used to and that was the type of ruins he had seen of the Grey Warden base.

However that should have been impossible, the enemy did not know of modern war so it was incredibly unlikely that they had somehow managed to requisition some old Soviet fighter jets, recommission them, teach a bunch of idiots to fly them and then send them on a bombing run. That left artillery as the only real weapons that could cause such a catastrophic toll which again was not possible for the enemy with their limited knowledge and toolset.

This could only mean one thing.

He was responsible for the destruction of the Grey Warden base. He had been the one who had created artillery in the future brought them against this Grey Warden castle where he then proceeded to bombard it. For what purpose he could likely guess as well. The enemy Magister had taken control of the Grey Wardens requiring the Inquisition to interfere lest the group leave and fight with their enemy and cause all sorts of manic and mayhem.

He narrowed his eyes at the thought, not because of the actions he would take, he perfectly agreed with future him on that point, but because of the dragon itself. At first, he had believed that the dragon had simply imagined things that would happen, but the detail that I had used was t specific and the magic it had used far to foreign for him to identify. He couldn't help but wonder silently to himself, that perhaps... perhaps he might have glimpsed into the future.

It sounded ridiculous even to him, if he has such a power of foresight, then he would have showcased it long ago by now and then promptly forced into the sham classes that were Divination. Yet he knew that foresight was indeed possible, incredibly rare most certainly, but prophecies did exist back home and according to the legend, there was at least one for every single witch and wizard, though they differed in their nature.

Hell even wands themselves could be considered a small prophecy of themselves. He wasn't a wandmaker, but Olivander had stated that wands choose their users based on what they might become as well as who they are. Certain woods he stated informed him that the bearer would be one who belonged to a revolutionary group changing the world in some way whilst yet another he said told him that the bearer would die in a heroic way. There were other woods for other purposes, each of them telling a master of Wandlore something about their wand in some way or another.

It was magic he did not understand, but that was fine with him and it made him wonder if the same could be said of the Dragon. He was a foreigner here, trying to adjust to the magic of this world but not perfectly understanding it, and like his own world, this world had its own kind of ancient forgotten magic lost to time.

Could the dragon have had some kind of ability to see into the future or possible futures?

He distinctly remembered seeing Orzammar in ruins, destroyed by Darkspawn as they ransacked the city, butchering and killing all in their path. Was that something that was going to happen, something he had prevented or something that he could prevent. He did not know.

He frowned more as he searched through the rest of the unlocked rooms in the old building, quickly piling every single word and document there was into his expanded pockets. There was so much he dod now know about the magic of this world, he had read all the books he could get on the question and he had even ask Solas what he knew of magic, but even now he knew he only understood a single drop in a bucket of knowledge.

If the dragon had tried to show him the future to scare him and admit defeat, then that left the question as to what beat the dragon and enabled his escape. He had not been responsible for it, instead, something else had intervened but the question was just what had intervened and why had it done so. He could not begin to guess what had saved him, or why they had saved him, instead, all he knew was that he owed someone or something, for giving him the chance he required to escape the dragons mental grasp and deliver the final killing blow.

And that was before he even considered what he had learned from the dragon and the demon. The Evanuris, old dragons, Titans ancient demons all of them were real in some form or another, and they were all impacting the world in a way he did not yet understand yet alone possess much knowledge of.

The Titans from what he could summarise were likely some type of giant creatures that lurked underground though what they did now he was unsure of. As for the Evanuirs, two were supposedly alive and he suspected that Solas might have a connection to Fen Harel given his proclivities for the ancient art he occasionally drew depicting the old wolf here and there as well as the wolfs jaw bone. But there was also Mythal to concern himself about, this "Goddess" was the protector of the elven people however despite this she had done nothing to save the lives from their current situation which according to Imshael was because her state of living could be considered dubious. That only worried him more, magic users were powerful, but to be considered a god even amongst other mages would require a person to hold exceptional power likely of that exceeding even the greatest wizards and witches back home.

So what could be so utterly powerful that it could nearly kill a god?

The Titans were out, according to the dragon the gods had actually used the titan's essence for their own used making them more powerful. That left demons which while possible was probably not the case had demons defeated the gods then they likely would have conquered Thedas and never allowed any civilization, that in turn left the dragons but those had been locked away by Grey Wardens, not the gods.

Fen Harel was the only answer that immediately came to mind, but the personality that the mythos depicted him made no sense. Trickster god's liked to have their fun and prank people even going so far as to kill others in sheer joy, but they rarely wanted to see the world destroyed or that was what he believed. Admittedly his knowledge on the mythology of gods was incredibly limited. Destroying the elven race may make for one trick, but where was the fun in keeping it destroyed for so long in keeping the gods trapped away. His source of play and entertainment was entirely non-existent especially as he could think of no human legends that depicted a figure like Fen Harel messing with them.

There had to be another reason behind Fen Harel's actions, a purpose as to why a tricker god would suddenly decide to ruin his fun for all time and maintain it for so long. Then again, if Solas was somehow working or connected to Fen Harel, then perhaps the DreadWolf was working again maybe after some sort of deep magical sleep due to some spell? Maybe it was the dread wolf that had interfered to afraid that someone might learn of its plans if the old god were to share knowledge of the future, or perhaps he did it for fun with another plan in mind.

Nat didn't know and the more his mind focused onto the topic of this worlds mythology, the more he couldn't help but feel uneasiness coursing through his entire body as if he had been dumped into a freezing ocean and told to swim back to land on the other side of the planet. Something was happening, he could feel it and the events of this Dragon Age was only confirming it.

First, there had been a blight, an incredible deadly phenomenon which typically left the entire continent in ruins for years after it had been defeated and also required years and tremendous forces to be defeated only it had been solved in the matter of a year by only two Wardens. Then there was the case of the architect who according to the rumours was an intelligent Dark Spawn and had wanted to make peace with the Wardens only to be then cut down. Years afterwards, came Hawke and her adventures where she discovered a long lost never should have been discovered Thaig with the first recorded case of Red Lyrium, then she fought off a Qunari invasion and years afterwards she was present when the Chantry was blown up. Promptly after that, the mage circles which had been at a strained peace for years with the Chantry break away and now there was a mage Templar Civil war, Orlesian civil war, a nearly fifth blight, a tear in the veil, an ancient magister comes to take over the world and a wizard from an entirely another planet who just so happens to arrive just in time to help prevent calamity. Added to this, was the apparent movements of two Evanuris, the awakening of an old god, the moving of a Titan, an ancient demon making contracts and whispers of another possible Qunari invasion.

There was something stirring this century, old magic at play, new forces to craft a new world only to face the backlash of the old and so many other things that were likely going to be revealed in the time to come. Frankly, Nat couldn't help but wonder just what he had signed up for when he walked through that portal all those months ago, whatever it was, he hadn't been expecting this. And yet despite all this, he could feel something else.

Something was coming, he could just feel it, like when two people met and they instinctively hated one another for no apparent reason or when a person thought something was going to terribly wrong or perhaps when somebody just felt all of a sudden as if somebody close had died for no apparent reason.

It was very much real, and now that he had seemingly breached the topic, Nat couldn't help but want to slam that door and reverse time. He wished he had never entered Orzammar, never encountered that dam dragon because every step he took and every plan he had, he couldn't help but now feel that there was something gazing over him expectantly all the while he was preparing for some great confrontation with an unexpected enemy.

With the rest of the old building secure and having found no more demons, Nat returned back to the door that led into Josephine's old office. Without much effort, he was then soon able to apply the smaller charges of black powder to the door after having cut through enough wood with his knife. Once that had been completed, he soon made his way to the nearest place that he could think to hide before finally detonating the explosives

A loud crack echoed from out of the old palace and had anyone else been near, then they would have heard the sound of the wooden door groaning under the strain of its own weight for a few seconds which was then promptly followed by a horrible tearing sound as the hinges on the door came off allowing the wooden defence to come smashing down.

Drawing his pistol, Nat kept as utterly silent as he could for the first minute or so, carefully waiting with all his senses on extra alert as he waited for something or someone to emerge from the darkness. However, when enough time had passed and nothing did emerge, Nat slowly crept out of his hiding place and moved gradually closer to Josephine's old office. After approaching the door with his pistol still bared, Nat entered the room and was immediately glad that he had come to Haven when he had.

Documents had been strewn everywhere in a mad panic covering the vast majority of the floor in important or sensitive information. Glancing over to where the woman's desk still stat, he noted the appearance of an inkwell that had been knocked off and split onto more documents whilst her collection of pens that he had given her had been dropped to the floor with haste alongside the other useful pieces of stationery that he had given her all that time ago.

With no threat to be seen, he quickly placed away from his weapon and instantly began to pick up everything that he could and stash it into one of his other pockets. Pen, paper, ink, documents. All of it could be of some use or another to the enemy if they ever managed to get hold of this stuff. Despite this, he couldn't help but have his curiosity overwhelm him somewhat as his eyes glanced onto what was a letter referring to him.

The letter started off slowly and polite, a greeting between Leliana and another woman, but as the letter went on, he began to read as Leliana asked for any information not regarding where he was from, but rather his specific magic abilities he had shown. Varrick it seemed had gotten around to the point that at some point he had mentioned a few of the spells he could do to other people who in turn had reported it to Leliana where she began to make inquiries.

Nat frowned as he rad the letter. He knew that even now the rest of the Inquisition suspected him somewhat, after all just like Solas he had just so happened to be nearby when the Breach was opened, had shown a distaste for the Chantry and held unheard of magic at his command. The last of which he felt with a slight amount of contempt.

An unlocking charm was one of the very first spells that a first-year learnt and yet the mages of this world seemingly did not have an equivalent to it. Nat shook his head as he recalled one of the conversations that an older mage had been sharing with a friend and that he had just happened to overhear. Apparently, the mage had been attempting to help their friend escape the tower only yo come to a door that they could not open as they did not have the key, instead, they had simply decided to get a rod of fire to burn the lock. It worked, but frankly, it was a waste of resources when one had an unlocking charm but then again, that spell was likely going to earn him a certain amount of cash with Varrick. Every so-called impossible lock that he could open would net him a certain amount of gold that he could use for his own personal designs.

Speaking of which, his plans for conquering Thedas in a business manner had been severely helped by a book that Valeyna had given him. It had taken him longer than he initially desired to get to the book considering all his other duties and his need to learn more about Thedas, but when he did read the book, he couldn't help but be disturbingly impressed. Before he could continue, however, his attention was taken by the sound of a particularly harsh wind that blew through the open doors screaming as it did so.

Nat sighed as he snatched up the piece of paper and placed it in his pocket, he would have time to read through odd books and documents when he and his subordinates were safe and reunited with whatever was left with the Inquisition. However even as he did return quickly back to work in finding documents and placing them in a safe location, he couldn't help but wish that he had his magic back by now, it would sure make things earlier.

He was recovering, another week and he would likely be able to cast small scale spells without much worry and a week after that would get him back to full strength. Even so, he couldn't help but feel the anger in his blood rise as he thought back to what had left him so bloody vulnerable. Had his magic not been as exhausted as it had been, then he would have recovered entirely by now, instead, with his magic pushed to its limits to protect him, the regeneration process was made all the slower as a sudden influx could be harmful. In simpler terms, it was like those prisoners at concentration camps when they were finally rescued, they weren't allowed to eat a full meal as the sudden influx of nutrients would make them sick as their bodies could not handle it.

It was just so irritating though, day by day without being able to cast a single spell, without the ability to apparate or eviscerate an enemy with no effort was incredibly dull. He'd even been forced to sing his own hands to make his breakfast, it wasn't difficult, he'd done so hundreds of times h=when he was younger as he prepared the meals for both himself and his father, but after getting a wand he had never used his hands to cook. He was just glad that his hand skills weren't so utterly dull as to chop his fingers off or something.

His main concern was about Gerald and ELyira though. With them still locked in the Deep Roads the last time he had seen them and him without his magic, it was going to be an effort to rescue them before things went to even further shit if it hadn't already. First, he was going to need to get past the outside guard after which he would then need to be allowed to enter the deep roads and that was if they even allowed him to live in the first place rather then try to outright kill him.

Bribery wasn't going to work, the guards that were posted outside the entrance were specifically ones that had past some kind of corruption test. That left either a disguise which wouldn't be pulled of due to his youthful appearance and no magic or using some kind of rank and authority which again was likely to be out of the picture.

He had kinda killed the king, so he likely wasn't the dwarven peoples greatest friend and even if they didn't have a grudge against the inquisition, they still would not let him in leading to either a fight in which he tried to push past the guards, sneak in again via some other method or in an even worse scenario enter the deep roads in another manner. The last without the use of his magic was not particularly ideal.

Personally, he was likely going to try to sneak in again. It wasn't exactly the honest way, but he neither had the desire to battle his way through a horde of guards nor wait for at least two more weeks before he could simply apparate in and rescue his companions by force. Most likely they wouldn't survive two weeks if they were still trapped and even if they did manage to make it to Orzammar, there was the very real possibility of them being snatched from the grey wardens and executed as spies of the Inquisition.

On the other hand, as he kept picking up document after document, he couldn't help;p but wish that Leliana or Josephine would have kept some dirty information about one dwarf or another in which case he could blackmail them into helping him. In fact, there likely was information, but it was going to take quite a while to sort out with how much info they had left behind in their escape. Just a quick sweep of his eyes had him learning of names of politicians that had been contacted, shipments of supplies, blackmail material in one form or the other. Hell, there were even marriage proposals for some of them, mostly from those of incredibly low rank and always for only, Leliana and Josephine, but still marriage proposals.

Once he had cleared the entire room of its contents, Nat made his way to the last and perhaps the most important decantation in the building, that of the war room. Whilst Josephine's office had held the important and likely incriminating documents, as Nat blew open the war room and stepped inside, he was met with a highly important war table in the centre.

Once again he was met with the scene of a person that was either two terrified and had forgotten to take action or somebody of total incompetence in their escape. He thought this, for fact that the old map which had showcased a map of the southern Free Marches, Ferelden and Orlais had been entirely left with pieces left on. Icons of that represented cavalry, foot soldiers, key defensive locations alongside possible mission objectives combined with a strange amount of knives that had been plunged into the table were all present and could all give vital information to the enemy.

It had changed rather significantly since he had last seen it. For one, the two daggers that had been thrust into the map representing the home bases of the mages of Templars had vanished and instead replaced with another one thrust right at the heart of Orlais, and another at Orzammar. Nat narrowed his eyes slightly at the knife of Orlais before with a bit of a tug he brought the sharp piece of iron out of the table and fabric and placed it beside him.

Obviously, something was going to happen with Oralis, but what?" Before he could think any further, a white searing pain struck his head and flashes of the vision he had seen with the dragon once more reached the forefront. A dark blue dress, a magnificent palace of some kind and a pool of scarlet blood as a distant cry came out all came at once before ceasing suddenly alongside the pain.

An assassination attempt? He assumed. Most likely they were after the Empress with the desire to entirely destabilise the region. At her age, the woman was without an heir and therefore very likely to plunge the nation into an even further civil war if Gaspard did not take power from her and have his own. However, that probably wouldn't happen, the enemy would likely blame the assignation attempt on the man entirely damaging his reputation and preventing a strong and secure rule which would only continue the civil war allowing for the enemy to marshal troops from Tevinter and invade.

Orlais wouldn't stand a chance. While they may not have gone around burning cities because of some stupid belief in honour, they were still divided into smaller forces allowing the enemy to defeat them in detail which would leave Ferelden exposed for its own prompt and devastating invasion.

Orzammar, on the other hand, was easier to understand, by now the death of the king had likely lead to a power crisis and id it had not been solved, then there were going to be opposing political beliefs each with their own ways of doing stuff. With it, in turmoil, the cities' production and selling of Lyrium would come to a halt restricting the use of the tuff by Templars forcing those who hadn't already converted to the enemy to do so in order to drive off their hunger for the material.

He had failed catastrophically on that regard. One moment he was rushing to find the heir in hopes of restoring order the next he and the other two had been captured and kept unconscious for a fortnight only to then wake up and be forced to capture one of the ancient magisters and kill a god. Despite those achievements, that had only given the enemy time to cement their position and by now had perhaps even joined the enemy in its entirety stacking up the odds against them.

A flicker of concern ran through him, Elyria and Gerald, they'd be killed the moment they arrived back. They'd be made examples off, have their heads put on spikes or maybe turned into slaves at the Imperium seemed so proud of. He had to get there first, he had to save Elyria and Gerald and if needed he also had to bring down the dwarven government and prevent them from causing even more damage than they could already.

With a glance at the table, he made a quick note of where everything had been located before snatching them all up and putting them in a pocket. When he was done, he gave a final quick look around the building searching for anything that he might have missed before to make sure that the enemy would have an even harder time getting into this place, he dropped a set of more powerful explosives in the building. Once he was over the horizon half an hour later, he detonated them sending yet another loud echo roaring into the sky as he made a quick pace to where Orzammar lay.

Frostback mountains

"Guard I need help" Nat called out quickly as his legs beat over the open path. Things had changed since when he had first arrived, the most prominent of which was that the road had been repaired and that the number of peddlers had instantly vanished as they were led inside to purchase and sell their wares.

"What is it" A short dwarven man responded as he turned angrily to the armed human running towards him. Soon the boy came to a stop allowing the man to look upwards into his eyes only to have fear strike him as he remembered what the report had said. "Die coward" Alerting the other guards to what was happening, the dwarven man was given no chance to say another word as magically enchanted steel sliced through his fine dwarven helmet and into his skull killing him instantly.

With the sound of battle seemingly having awakened them from some type of slumber, the guards soon drew their own weapons which were an assortment of swords and axes for the most part although the occasional one was intelligent enough to charge at Nat with a spear.

"Die, Kingslayer" They dashed towards the boy hoping to cut him down but it was not enough of a distraction as instead of the boy facing them ahead-one instead glanced to the side where the other dwarves were making an attempt to close the large heavy stone doors and keep him out of their glorious city.

Nat had none of it. Raising his pistol, he aimed towards one of the gate guards heads and fired once. The guard having no time to react didnt make so much as a gurgle in his death instead just falling backwards both arms seemingly locked to his side as his armoured body clanged to the floor. A brief look of shock emerged on the dwarves faces though they were hidden by their heavy helmets as they saw the smoke emerge from the strange device and the death of their brother.

He knew had heard of such powder, it was called Gatlok and it was similar to a dwarven exploding powder, however, such powder was never sold to humans and had never been used in such a manner before. All the human had done was aim a strange piece of wood at their fellow guard one moment and the next, a blast ran out as their previously alive friend was dropped to the floor despite their armour.

A bolt of fear ran through the spines of every dwarf as they continued to advance forwards desiring to get into a close enough range that would give them the advantage over the supposed mage. Nat ignored their calls of him being a coward, however, instead he just rushed past the guards and vaulted over their short heads so that he could enter the city and kept running.

So they knew who he was Nat figured. Great. It was a bit of a shame really, but he had done the research on the way towards the city, stopping any traveller or merchant he came across and asking what had happened to the city since then. What he discovered was exactly what they had told him.

Apparently, in the time that he had been gone from the city, the whole problem of succession had been dealt with and a new king had been placed on the throne on the Assembly right before it had kicked off another full civil war. The merchants didn't know much more than that other then they were still allowed to trade in order to bring in money to Orzammar, but Nat could guess as to why this war had started. He did not have any time to think about it any further, however, as the sound of an arrow whizzing by his ear informed him that the guards had brought in more backup all of which looked rather agree to kill him.

Dodging an incoming axe that had been thrown at his head, Nat was then forced to rotate his body to the left as a pikeman attempted to skewer him on their large wooden pole before he then lopped off the end of the weapon and forced his blade straight through the armour of the dwarf who had tried to kill him. Straight after, another dwarf came cahring at him only this time with a raised axe that at total height appared to come up to about Nat's head.

Again Nat dodged the heavy looking weapon before with far more grace and speed, as one would expect from a sabre wielder, brought the sharp steel to the back of the dwarves neck and slashed through the armour and bone. A few horrified looksemerged from fellow other guards as they saw their comrade in arms slump to the floor as a dead corpse, however, the others simply roared in anger and once again tried to get close.

One thing that Nat had noticed though, was that Dwarves were decent warriors and able to deliver powerful blows to the legs of a human, they were a bit slow when it came to running. As such, despite how much the dwarves tried, they held no chance in catching up with a lightly armed and dressed wizard and as such, were not able to prevent the wizard as he slipped inside the second set of gates and entered into Orzammar properly.

Upon re-entering the old dwarven city as he had done so many days before his initial trip, Nat instantly broke off into a dash to the left. He had to get out of sight quickly before other guards arrived and once that was done he was going to need a place to hide and stage his fight against these dwarves.

Despite his best efforts to blend in, it was in fact a very difficult thing to do seeing as how he was a human sprinting down the walls of Orzammar as a volley of angry shouts and hails followed him, moments later after he passed by a person, the sounds and sights of angry looking dwarves would then fill the streets as they looked for their trespassing.

Nat sighed to himself as he kept running through the increasingly twisting pathways of the slums that made up Orzammar. The lower levels were hated by those of the upper class and were generally considered an insult for one to even talk about the place. It was filled with the Castless he knew, the lowest of the low. Thieves, murderers, rapists, smugglers, as well as ordinary men and women who had simply been born with a poor lot in life all, resided in this cramped boiling dust bowl.

It wasn't much he knew, and he was also of the opinbio0n that he would never want to visit this type of place unless he absolutely had to, but he also knew the guards were bound to take a second guess before they ran off into Dusk Town. Behind every corner, there would be a dagger, under very street a poor urchin boy who would pass on information for simply the bronze coins to eat and in every back alley, some whore could be paid to distract a few guards and give him the time he would require to escape an area. But to all of them, Dusk Town was home and frankly, he did not see them giving up someone who was hiding from the law so easily, and it was why Nat had retreated here.

As a human, stealth in Orzammar was all but impossible, he would draw the attention of any passing dwarf whether by accident or on purpose there was just nothing he could do to prevent that. But other dwarves, on the other hand, could prove useful at least until his magic recovered. He'd only have to pay them a small amount, just enough to keep them happy and returning for work but not so much that they attempted to kill him in his sleep for the money he had on him or worse sell him out to the guards for an extra piece of pocket money.

He was going to need the help of others, use them to gather information through any contacts they might have with the upper levels. The first thing he had to though before he put in any plans to fight the current government was to learn what had happened in Orzammar since his departure and compare it to what he had heard on the road.

With his plan in mind, he crossed another corner and soon sprinted down the ramp quickly crossing over the area that was known as Dusk Town where he then quickly faded into the throng of others in the slums. Minutes later an angry growl would be heard as the guard captain realised where the Kingslayer was hiding but could not enter due to not having the number of troops they would need to enter such a place and not get slaughtered to the last men by a bunch of last good for nothing criminals. Nat didn't so much as smile instead. choosing to keep his cover as he wondered father and father into the poor place of Orzammar.

Dust Town like all places that the poor tended to congregate held the feeling of despair, loneliness, disaster, death, ruin and disease wherever he looked. Not one person wore any sort of bright rich clothing that even some of the less poor people who lived on the floors above would put on in order to impress someone of higher standing. There dress was poor, ripped in multiple places and then sewn up with rough patches, they stunk after having no bath for several days, weeks or perhaps even months, they're hair if they had any was misshapen and in terrible condition. Their eyes as he had noted earlier showed nothing but pain, either from starvation, physical pain or just the mental pain that came in day after day when you were considered the lowest of the low.

Even the children who from pictures he had seen were generally the happiest as they did not yet understand just how bad their predicament was, were rather depressed as they simply lounged round or more disturbingly were playing with knives around their fingers as if they were playing that ridiculously stupid knife game. Some of those kids he noted already had missing fingers whilst older adults were missing entire limbs likely from having them cut off in some manner likey through war.

Walking down the street, Nat was once again made clear just how happy he was that he was a wizard. A number of individuals were eying him greedily likely seeing nothing but a naive human child who they could manipulate and take advantage of. The two most obvious groups were the whores and the pickpockets. In the case of the former, they made a quick tug to their clothing as they tried to make themselves look more presentable whilst in the latter's case they eyed his pockets and began formulating plans on how to reach their hands inside.

Nat tried to ignore the stares as best he could, instead choosing to continue his search for a more private location. At the same time, however, he was unable to escape the whores as with rather ugly money leeching smiles the sauntered up to him and battered their eyebrows. Not desiring to draw this out any further, however, Nat gave them a harsh glare sending a shiver down their spines yet it was not enough to prevent them as their desperation took over.

"If you so much as disturb me, ladies, I will cut off your heads and place them on a spike" He warned dangerously. Surprisingly, however, Nat found he actually liked it when he saw the women's face flash in even more fear as he began drawing his blade out of its sheath as yet another warning to the women just what they were dealing with. He didn't have to wonder why he felt that way, he already knew the exact reason as to why he was so quick to threaten whores and it was also the reason as to why they were the ones he needed to keep away from the most. People had a tendency to Exeter their anger and frustration that they held towards others on someone else simply because two types of people held something in common and he was no different.

He didn't like killing, it didn't bother him in the slightest but none the less he didn't like killing, but whores what they did what those women would have wanted to do to him and what they wanted in return was far too dangerous. If they had continued and he hadn't threatened them away or he allowed anyone else to lead him on that dangerous path, then he likely would react far too strongly and kill them as he directed his anger towards THAT WHORE towards anyone else.

He wasn't perfect not in the slightest, but even so, that did mean that he wanted to go round slaughtering people simply because he disagreed with them or they bothered him. Time had shown what happened to the world when those with such feelings and barely controlled emotions were allowed to guide the world, people always innocent people who wanted to just get on with their lives, find love and anything else would die because of some asshole with too much power.

His warning worked as moments later the set of whores quickly dispersed as they sensed trouble, however, Nat was not left alone as next came the small children with nimble fingers. He'd watch them from out the corner of his eye, waiting to see from which angle they would attack from and what old strategy was in their mind. Was it going to be the typical bump into a person and grab, stop them for a conversation and ask them to take part in some sort of magic trick or something more classic with the snatch and go plan? He soon found out as the group made their way in front of him with little puppy dog eyes on their faces.

"Get lost kids I know what you're doing. You so much as lay a hand on me or my possessions and I will personally chuck you in the lava" One of the boys chuckled in as best a menacing voice that a pre-pubescent child bully could give. He squared his shoulders and gave a subtle order to his comrades to come out of the back alleys forming a circle around the wizard. Finally, the kid drew a somewhat blunt looking knife before smiling cruelly at the wizard.

"How about ya give us all ya shiny coin and ya pretty clothes and ya sword and we'll let ya live" Bored Nat glanced over to where the lava lay and mentally calculated the rough distance between him and it. All this happened before the brutish boy even had time blink.

"I politely suggest that you leave me alone alongside any other such malignant behaviour" The boy scoffed angrily waving his knife in front of him as he did so.

"Just shut up and give us ya stuff"

"I will give you one more warning young man, leave me alone or I will throw you in that lava" A dark look crept onto Nat's face. There were twenty of the little buggers, each of them from a poor family and probably forced to such action because of the situation that they were born in. Truthfully he thought that they should be in school being a little annoying nuisance that primary school teachers wanted to throttle on a daily basis if not shove a pencil up their arse for being such little shits. Instead, however, the annoying nuisances were criminals, threatening to cut him up if he didn't refuse.

"No more yapping get him lads" Nat narrowed his eyes at the command. He had no problem with killing all these brat's, but this was not the scenario where he could just go round killing whoever just so happened to irritate him in the slightest. If he did kill them, then he would very likely turn the rest of the other poor cretins in this area against him and if the guards did actually become brave enough to enter Dust Town, then they would assist them with their goals of hunting him down.

Then there was the other point of his reputation with the rest of the Inquisition. If he did kill these kids in cold blood, then rumours were bound to trickle down and over time those rumours would eventually make it back to whatever remained of the Inquisition leading to a possible Inquiry if not the complete loss of all trust in him. He could already imagine the disappointment filled if not angry faces of Valeyna and the others staring down at him with disgust for having killed these children, even if it was self-defence.

His best chance would be to run he knew, evade the attacks of the little brats and make his way to a safer location that rested deeper in Dust Town. Or he could try and fight the group off yet that didn't sound very likely. He was skilled in unarmed combat far more so than with a melee weapon as it was required in case he was disarmed or he was forced to defend himself in a muggle area, but he was dealing with twenty thugs all armed with knives. All that was required to kill him, was one attack to his exposed neck and head and he would be another corpse on the ground with these kinds rummaging through his corpse.

"Stop what you're doing" A loud voice cried out from behind Nat followed by the sound of heavy armour clanking against the hardened dirt floor.

Guards Nat realised, but they weren't in any panic if there were then they would have sounded louder and their movements would have been far quicker. Instead, they were moving at walking pace and the voice while giving a threatening tone was not aimed at him but rather the brats. All the same, however, Nat kept his eyes aimed at the leader of the Brats waiting and expecting for the kid to make some kind of hidden move when he wasn't looking.

"Uh, boss we gotta run" The boss as he was known seemed to be of the same opinion Nat saw. Instead of the cocky smile he had previously with the idea of getting rich of the corpse from some stupid human noble, he was now instead faced with the possibility of fighting highly trained and experienced guardsman who were rapidly making their way towards them. Suffice to say the kids ran away quickly disappearing into the dark streets and shadows of Dust Town leaving their quarry alone.

"My thanks," Nat said as he turned to finally face the ones who had saved him from the predicament of having to kill a bunch of kids. "Who do I have to thank for this timely intervention" His answer was met not with words, but rather with a shuffling of men as guards moved to their left and right making way for some unseen person until finally out of the front emerged a teenager around sixteen years old.

He looked like most dwarves did, short stocky, yet despite the noble looking clothes that the ginger-haired dwarf wore, Nat could easily detect the strong muscles made of years of training with combat. The most notable thing about this boy, however, was the appearance of a somewhat cheap looking crown that rested upon his head. Obviously, it was not from the dwarven royal jewels or whatever they had, but it still got the message out entirely.

This boy was in line for the Orzammar throne. It was just a shame about the boy's cocky demeanour.

"That would be me Veltrand Adras the true King of Orzammar and Kal Sharok and you must be the mage who slain the demon that murdered the King. You're not very impressive looking" And at that moment Nat groaned inside as hs instantly understood the boy's entire attitude. Most likely, the boy did have some claim to the throne but he was likely father back in line never to see the throne except under the direst of circumstances. Instead, the boy had likely lived his life in excess with servants to help in his everyday life, given the best tutors that money could afford and all the other things that nobles did. It was going to be a long few days.

"Looks can be deceiving, ambushes can only be sprung when the ambushee believes that the path ahead is clear" Veltrand pondered his words for a moment before he gave a fake smile.

"Not that it matter's, you will be assisting me in my claim for the throne Agent of the Inquisition. You will go where I tell you to, kill who I want you to and give me whatever I desire. Oh and before you ask that dumb question of what do you get, it's simple you get your life and your trade deal between Orzammar and the Inquisition" Nat kept his eyes narrowed in on the guards, there weren't that many of them and those that were there also weren't the highest quality, instead they looked far more like the average footmen rather than the highly trained and skilled personal bodyguards that the king would have. Even then, they didn't look exactly loyal with their faces full of devotion but instead, they looked far more like the common thug who as looking for a payment of some kind and figured that this king would give them a rather decent payment if he won.

"And why would you want a deal with the Inquisition, could you not make more money selling to the Templars or the Chantry or even the Venatori" Veltrand's face scowled deeply at the accusation.

"Listen here kid, those Venatori cunts put that dam demon into the old King and tried to cover it up on the Inquisition by stating it was some elaborate trick by the Inquisition. I don't buy that shit excuse for a moment, your lot are the only ones fighting the dam demons and as for the Templars and the Chantry, the first lot have less money then the Inquisition and the second lot insisted on stupid regulations that prevented users from selling Lyrium to third-party buyers. Now you can either help me take control of Orzammar and form a friendship between our two groups, or I can kill you for espionage"

Staring down the dwarf, Nat considered the options that he now had available. On one hand, he could possibly get everything he wanted and had initially come for if he worked with this man and put him on the throne. On the other hand, though, he could leave and try to find another solution. He doubted that would happen of course and he also did not have the time to be spent messing around, he still had Elyria and Gerald to rescue from the clutches of the Deep Roads. And with the danger of a civil war, it was likely that none would be allowed to pass in and out without prior permission or unless the civil war was ceased and stability could be returned once more to the kingdom.

"I agree, what do you want me to do" Veltrand smirked haughtily but bot before he gestured towards Nat for him to follow. Nat reluctantly but also on a severe timeframe agreed to the invitation presented to him and followed the group out of the area they were located in and instead to a far safer location. This safer location as it was better known, was actually just a slightly larger than the average house in one of the poorer parts of the city.

Stepping inside, Nat kept himself silent refusing to say anything that could harm the relationship he was attempting to build with this Dwarf and the Inquisition. The house in question had been filled to the brim with crates full of food and water alongside war supplies for their crossbows. Only one table could be seen and that table had a large map of the city of which area's had been coloured depicting which faction owned which area.

Currently, there were only two main colours with a few smaller ones. Red which represented the current leader of Orzammar and had been the ones who controlled most of the city including their very vital entrance to the outside world had been the one that the guards who had attacked Nat had belonged to. Blue, was the main opponent of Red and held the second largest territory which mostly was made up of what might be considered the working class and the poorer parts of the middle class. Finally, there were the other colours each of which only owned a very small amount of territory and were no threat to the larger ones forcing them to fight amongst each other for power and wealth.

"As you can see, we don't have the power to engage the larger parties in outright combat, but that also means that they won't send forces to hunt us down as it would distract from their war with one another. In the meantime, we need to secure every other place we can by killing their leaders and their men. Once we accomplish this, we will then strike at blue from it's rear and take them out before smashing into Red. So what I need you to do Agent, is simple. Find the leaders and other high ranking members of each of the different groups and kill them. My lot will handle the rest got that good now go and don't come back until their all dead"

Without a further world, Veltrand turned around and soon directed his attention onto other matters leaving the human wizard to simply look at the map and put it into his memory. There drawings of his targets, names of their hideouts and rough lists of how many forces there would be in each one. It was all rather Spartan, here's the information now just kill the enemy we don't care however Nat couldn't say he disliked it and honestly it was a relative relief from him having to do anything that involved much politics.

He may be a politician given his heritage, but that didn't mean he enjoyed politics. Like most other's he found it far too slow, far too boring, far too much jargon, far too arrogant and far too much of a waste of his time. As such with simple instructions he honestly felt nothing but relief, he wasn't a diplomat who would spend years learning languages just so he could look better when he entered another country, he was a duellist a warrior. The simplicity of just killing anything that got in his way was far more attractive than playing politics and frankly, it showed since as soon as he had committed all the information to memory, he was quickly out the door sabre in hand.

He wanted to get this all done relatively quickly he thought. Get the dwarf on the throne, rescue his subordinates and find whatever remained of the Inquisition, in the middles caser he likely didn't have much time especially to play politics.

That didn't mean he could just go barging into the main enemies base, without his magic he was still limited to sword and pistol which in the case of the latter he was starting to get irritated by. It was just so bloody annoying, just one shot before then having to reload just one extra shot and then fire. Frankly, it was slow, cumbersome and not worth the effort compared to a bow which could shoot faster and more regularly compared to that of a gun.

Nat sighed, it was just one more thing that he needed to do when he joined up with the Inquisition, focus all his time and attention on upgrading the firearms that the Inquisition had at its command. He cancelled any and all attempts to create new flintlock pistols or rifles, they'd only consume time, and he also wouldn't waste any more time then he absolutely needed on other obsolete gun models besides learning how actual guns worked. It would be a simple case of making a more advanced gun design, check that it fires, repeat the process to ensure he knew what he was doing and then move onto the next one and repeat time and time again until he could make a fully automatic assault rifle. But he was also going to need other weapons he knew, weapons that would assist in other tasks such as flamethrowers or toxic and chemical gas and perhaps even advanced vehicles as well as other advanced technology.

He could only imagine just how great an advantage it would be to the Inquisition if they could send messages instantly. Their ability to coordinate their attacks and spread information could lead to quick harsh blows against an unsuspecting enemy as well as ensure that the right amount of equipment was brought to bear rather than too little or too much.

Despite all these thoughts of future plans however, Nat soon found his mind returning back to his soon-to-be-targets. He didn't want to spend any more time than absolutely needed in tracking them down, rather he would prefer to find a nice hiding spot, get out his rifle and shoot them and their followers in the head where Veltrand's men could do the rest. It would be quick and easy as even if the dwarfs did decide to hide out in some underground cave, a pistol could still blast straight through their measly armour and smash into their ribcage killing them before they even knew what had struck them.

It didn't take him long to find his first target, in fact, it was relatively easy. The man like Veltrand was dressed in expensive looking clothes giving them a very distinct look compared to the other members of Dwarven society and also like Veltrand, the man had a haughty tone that could be heard from a mile away. Currently, though and much to Nat's enjoyment, the man had managed to call up a meeting with another one of these small little groups and were currently facing off against one another in the open. It was a poor move.

Taking advantage of this nicely presented set of target's, Nat quietly crept over the floor and slipped into a darkened alley street that overlooked the meeting place with the two dwarves. Slowly so as not to alert the dwarves to the fact that he was going to kill them, Nat gently took the rifle that was slung over his shoulder and gently set it on the small stone wall that would prevent him from dying.

He was a decent shot with the weapon thanks to a week of constant firing as he had moved from the south where the sun didn't shine and other monsters lurked such as bears and wolves, but he doubted he could ever say he was anything compared to the professionals who did this for a living and hence, he would try to mitigate such a disadvantage as much as possible. Once his rifle was sighted onto the target, Nat gave a sweep over the area.

It was fairly compact with few open spaces and not many places that could be hidden behind for cover as unlike the upper levels where the front doors were recessed, the lower doors were instead level. Aside from that, however, there was the occasional alleyway that could be run down and used to either hide or escape preventing an accurate shot without moving his position.

Speaking of which, he guessed he would not have much time to take out these men before they reacted. The first shot would be successful and kill one of them so long as he didn't miss and the confusion that would rip through the others might last a few brief moments before panic would set in amongst the ranks and they would then dod their best to rush their current boss to a hiding place.

That didn't leave Nat with a lot of time he knew, realistically he had to be able to load his rifle, aim and shoot accurately within a very short time period something which considering the circumstances he did not know was possible. After the first shot guards would see the smoke and if they were armed with crossbows would move to target him before then sending their faster members to rush him.

He was cut off from his thinking however when he heard the sound of a dwarf moving quickly towards him in a very speedy manner. Turning around, Nat barely had enough time to dash into a small gap before the dwarf ran in with a crossbow in his hand. Carefully, just as he had done mere moments before, Nat watched as the dwarf aimed his weapon at the group of speaking dwarves and locked their bolts as they prepared to fire.

So one of the others had already learned of this meeting then. That was good, with any luck the other member would arrive soon leaving a target open for an attack by an unsuspecting enemy. Before any of the new arrivals were actually given their command however, two new loud cries erupted into the area and made themselves known.

Instantly all attention was directed to these new arrivals and Nat could see the dwarf who was standing only a few inches away from him sink as they seemingly realised what was going on. In contrast, Nat couldn't believe his luck as each of the other groups began spouting what was likely the name of the leader of each group before they then picked up their pace and sprinted their way into the enemy with a mighty war cry.

Suddenly like a switch being flicked on, pandemonium erupted between all the groups. The four small ant tiny groups of dwarves crashed against one another sending swords, spears, shield and flying whilst from their elevated position, the other group of dwarves began to rain down bolts as soon as they could.

Nat wasted no time in securing his own position. With a hard thrust of his hand forward, he captured the dwarf that was inches ahead of him by the led and with an even tug yanked him back onto the floor where he crashed with a heavy and unexpected thump. Nat didn't wait for the dwarf to react, instead, he drew the dagger his kept on him and thrust the steel into the dwarf's exposed throat. Blood poured from the man's throat as he died quickly though not before his killer had grabbed his crossbow and his bolts as well as any coin that he had on him.

Cautiously so as to prevent any other dwarf from seeing him move, Nat moved away from the area of the dead dwarf and instead moved to a higher position until he found another advantageous position. Instead of setting up his weapon, however, he instead took his time to view the opposite side of the dwarves crossbow men searching for their leader or commander. That was all he had to kill, the commander and the leader of these other groups of dwarves. With them, all dead Veltrand would be able to take advantage and consolidate his hold on the poorer parts of Orzammar.

Personally, Nat just hoped that dam civil war was ended quickly, he'd already fucked up on the initial diplomacy and now he was having to save face by overthrowing a government and putting an unknown quantity in charge. In all honesty, he didn't trust the dwarf, and he suspected the dwarf felt the same towards him yet they both knew that they needed one another.

Veltrand would require his aid in guaranteeing his position on the throne while Nat needed a deal that he could go back to the Inquisition with and state that he had achieved his goal and that he was not as shit as a diplomat that this entire debacle proved. And so with a desire to see this war ended quickly, he was very rapidly able to move unseen by the other forces until he reached the opposite side of the dwarven archers and more vitally the leading man.

There was no warning for the wannabe king. One moment he was standing back from the archers careful so as not to get shot in the face with an arrow and even going so far as to keep a shield in front of his face and the next moment there was a sudden sharp pain in the man's back and front. Glancing downwards, the man had barely any time to stare in shock as he saw the edge of a sword get dragged back causing even more jolts of pain in his body before he then fell to the ground dead.

The rest of the battle Nat spent in silence only watching the men he needed to kill as they fought it out with whatever weapons. Luckily for the wizard, the social pressure of not looking like a coward in front of the other members kept all the nobles close to the battlefield and it was that closeness that Nat watched.

The battle was going to end soon, he could already see that the groups were all tired through one had managed t gain the upper hand in the fight and was managing to fight back the other three forces much to the delight of their leader. Then, in a sign of arrogance and a lack of combat experience, the man exposed himself to enemy fire and yelled for his troops to keep fighting and win the day for him. It was in that moment where a crossbow bolt aimed from none other then the wizard pierced the man's skull and ended him in an instant.

The result of such a death was near instant. One moment the now dead nobles troops had been winning, the next moment a cry of horror emanated breaking both the morale and the concentration of his troops leaving them exposed to a sudden counter-attack. Spears skewered through the soldiers leaving them with nothing but shocked and horrified expressions as they stared at their fellow dwarves before those who survived were given another blow and were killed there and then without remorse.

With only three left, the forces focused their attention back onto one another all of them hacking and slashing each one desperate for some kind of kill or more likely in Nat's opinion, hoping to be noticed and promoted. It never happened however as the lords concerned for both their victory and their own life began to break away from the back of the fighting and instead rushed towards one another ready to engage in a three on one fight.

Naturally as one would expect when this type of thing happened, two of the dwarves ganged up on the other one, striking with as much speed and ferocity as they could before it became too late. As for the ambushed dwarf, their face paled as they realised they were being pushed by the other two father and father away from his troops and thereby his reinforcements. It became even worse however when he found himself trapped in a thin alleyway. There was no escape he realised with fear. Nowhere to step back from and two ferocious enemies that attacked with the ferocity and speed that would be expected of trained nobles and that was why it was surprising what happened next.

One moment he was fending of an attack from two opponents forced to the floor and his vision blocked from anything else and the next there was a loud shlick as the sound of a blade passed through metal. The dwarf obviously terrified and believing that he had been injured stared down at his arm expecting to see some injury, but moments later he looked up in shock as the two torsos of his attackers slid off their bodies as if rolling a ball down a mountain. Relief filled his body and just as he prepared to give a thank you, his heart dropped again as the unmistakable twang of a crossbow was fired and a bolt punctured his chest.

"Five down two more to go" Without another word spoke and after he had raided the corpses of these dead men for their money, Nat departed the bodies and moved away from the continuing battle to find his other two targets and take their heads.

It wasn't long after he had escaped the initial battle that Nat found Veltrand's two rivals. Instead of joining in on the massive battle to kill their rivals in one single glorious victory, the two other leaders had instead taken to sitting in their respective bases preparing for their next move and how they would act. Of course, when the news quickly reached them that the others had engaged in a large scale battle, the two other lords had been ecstatic and held the similar plan of waiting until the battle was finished and then wiping out whatever remained of their enemies.

It was the same thing that had occurred with the previous noble he had just killed Nat noted, all of them gathered around a table, guards left outside so they could not hear the secret plans and report to the enemy and constant whispering as they stared at him as he was marched into the room.

"Your Majesty, this human says he had vital information on the pretender Veltrand," The noble said nothing for a time, instead he simply chose to stare at the human who had walked into the middle of his base. Nat in a desire to try and hide his identity had wrapped himself in a cloak hiding the clothing that he wore around his body alongside the sabre and the two armed crossbows in his hands. It would be a simple matter, the moment that the guard left he would launch out of position fire off his two bolts at the noble and whether the man survived it or not he would then draw his sabre and kill anyone inside before they had a chance to call the guard. Once that was then complete and so long as he had been stealthy, he would then walk out the front door and report back to Veltrand.

"What information do you have boy, speak quickly" The noble declared with obvious boredom and disgust at having been interrupted in the middle of his plans.

"It's of a rather sensitive matter my lord, best not to be spoken unless you can make sure that this will not get back to him" Nat replied in a suspicious manner as he eyes the guard next to him as if he was some type of spy for Veltrand. The noble caught wind instantly as shown when his eyebrows raised and he stared at the guard in shock for the briefest second before he then narrowed them harshly.

"Leave us" The noble bellowed at the guard, not that he had to be told twice seeing as the guard dashed as quickly as he possibly could out of the room so that he could escape the fierce scrutiny of the nobles. When the door slammed behind the guard, Nat moved forward a calm expression on his face. "What is this information"

"My lord I have intercepted a letter between Veltrand and a member of the Inquisition, it is hard proof that the two have been conspiring including information on a hidden weapons cache" Like the treasure in a dragon's horde, the nobles eyes lit up with unyielding greed as thoughts and plans for such weapons and armour filled his mind. There were so many advantages he would have over Veltrand the noble thought, so many ways he could kill the noble."

"Come, come" The noble gestured rapidly. "Please give me this letter" Nat acquiesced quickly to the man's command and before the noble even knew what had happened, Nat was only a metre in front of him and raised his right hand beneath his cloak. The noble smiling with excitement had no time to notice however that the distortion of the cloak was not at all like that of a scroll or a book and only heard the sudden noise as the first bolt aimed at the man's heart was unleashed from its holder and launched at the man.

Hitting with incredible accuracy and strength, the arrow punched through the dwarf nobles light clothing and straight through the skin and muscle where it promptly smashed the ribcage in front of the heart in two pieces before ultimately punching straight through the vital organ in a single blow. The second bolt was then launched although this time, not at the now dead noble, but rather at the bulky looking guard beside him who had no time to react as the bolt buried itself into his eye and straight into the brain. Then before the last and final man had a chance to react, Nat spun around on his heel and in a single motion drew his sabre and directed the tip towards the third man's unguarded neck and sliced through it cleanly, where promptly, after the blade was then spun once to flick the blood off.

With his mission in killing the last fake noble complete, Nat marched towards the door blade still in hand and opened it gently enough that the guard did not hear him. This flaw of hearing would be the guard's last mistake as Nat's sabre then cleanly passed through the man's chest and into his heart. Catching the heavy dwarf before he hit the ground, Nat quickly moved the guard into the room and deposited the corpse before leaving again and this time shutting it. Once that was complete he walked out

"They're dead," Nat said in a bored monotone voice as he entered the small house that was Veltrand's building. Currently, it was in a bit of a rush as soldiers, and workers dashed around completing various chores while Veltrand and the leader of his guard stood hunched over the map of Orzammar.

"How it's not even been a day" Veltrand turned suddenly to face the human he had asked to help him with his plans. "I'm not complaining however, just glad that you decided to ally with me instead one of the others" Nat gave a slight grin at the fearful tone.

"We can both give one another something that they desire, it would be a waste for me to spend my time dilly-dallying around trying to help random people. I killed the other nobles, you can take over their territory which leaves us dealing with the Reds and Blue. The sooner this war is over the better"

"Whilst I agree, it makes me wonder why they sent you to negotiate in the first place" Veltrand narrowed his eyes as he took in Nat's form. The boy wasn't really the most intimidating or friendly looking person he had seen, and neither was he handsome or ugly, he was just plain. He wasn't the type to strike anyone as a diplomat and neither did he strike out as a warrior or general with his disposition, instead, the kid just seemed to be normal or at least hiding under the guise of normal considering he had killed the leaders of seven other dwarf groups in only a few hours .

"I was chosen because I was the only inner circle member of the Inquisition who was available and because it was supposed to be and I quote "An easy and less intimidating mission then speaking to a bunch of mages holed up in a castle" Veltrand snorted loudly.

"Of course they did a good job though. Thanks to you, I'm going to inherit the throne so it's not all bad" Nat nodded, he guessed that Veltrand was actually rather appreciative of the event that had occurred with the king. As the city was in civil war, power would, in the end, be placed into the hands of the most powerful person who could kill their enemies and when one included the fact that the heir to the throne was also dead, it was likely that once Veltrand's would take the throne he would then implement whatever controls he wanted.

"I think we should get rid of your enemies before we celebrate, preferably as soon as possible. The moment that the reds and blues learn of you consolidating your power, they are going to march on you before you can marshal any strength." Veltrand nodded yet as he did so, he couldn't help but tye the boy suspiciously, he was being a bit overly cautious in his attack, especially when the rumour was that he had killed a pride demon with no effort whatsoever.

"How about I send you off, slaughter all the guards and kill the leaders with your magic. It shouldn't take you that long" Nat fell silent as he heard that. It was true, if his magic had recovered then this war would have been over by now and the heads of the enemy leaders would have been laced on spikes and if absolutely needed as a last resort he would have used the confundus charm on the members of the council to let Veltrand get elected.

It was just irritating, having to feel one of the drawbacks of his magic. Typically it recovered quickly, but when one did get magically exhausted as the gecko had done to him as he tried to prevent possession, then it took weeks to recover from. It was just a dam shame that he didn't know where Gerald and the others were, all he could hope for was that the Wardens they were with didn't act like colossal twats and try to find the last old god.

One had nearly killed him and with that magical resistance that would protect it from all-powerful magic attacks he could give whilst trying to keep up with its impressive airspeed, it was difficult to even land a solid strike on the monster. Banishing spells wouldn't work, it was simply the opposite of an Accio charm or in more sci-fi terms a telekinetic blast. That left striking it's weak points which were either it's wings, mouth or eyes though if he had a distraction that the monster would go for without any problems and also decided to conveniently ground itself of its own volition then he could do some more damage over an extended period of time, but when flying he was at a severe disadvantage especially as he could not fly himself nor command anything that could keep up with the speed and acrobatics that the winged creature could give. He was good, but he was no Dumbledore.

"I'm afraid that down in the Deep Road's I encountered a Darkspawn emissary I killed it but not before it managed to land a curse on me that is restricting my use on magic. Currently, I'm unable to through give me a fortnight and I'll be back to full strength" The dwarf shook his head before giving out a small growl then without any warning he smashed his squeezed fist against the map while a scowl appeared on his face.

"By the Ancestors. Fine, we'll attack right now, neither the red nor blues will expect a fight at the moment and if we can strike them whilst their unprepared then we can gain the advantage." Nat hid his surprise behind a blank expression though inwardly he felt a surge of concern go through him. He could already guess as to why Veltrand wanted to attack this moment.

When he had first arrived in the city two weeks ago, he had sensed the presence of another mage lurking in the background for whatever reason. It was likely, that the mage was some sort of assistant or guard assigned to the current king by the Ancient Magister as protection and was likely why Veltrand was so concerned.

Dwarves were more magically resistant than other races, but they weren't immune to its effects and frankly, all that enemy mage needed to do, was fire off a powerful plume of flames towards their position and it would all be over. Burnt to ashes or encased in ice or possibly electrocuted to death were all possible attacks they would have to contend with alongside being killed by a telekinetic blast, blood magic, a death field, curses, spirit magic and more. It was not something that could easily be dealt with especially as there were no templars in sight who could dampen the mages with their abilities and training.

The fact of the matter was, this assault was going to end in quite a few people dying and that number went up drastically if the current reigning king was able to get his pet mage into the fight. Which was what Nat knew he was going to be assigned to.

Veltrand and his men would likely create a distraction and draw the attention of the Red and Blue's engaging them in a sudden unexpected result that would draw out the mage from where Nat could then kill them. Straight afterwards, he would then move to the king and kill them before then finishing off the blues leader. When this was finally complete, Veltrand could move into the position of power and swiftly on his own merit wipe out any remaining pockets of resistance. A short decisive victory with high rewards once completed.

He would have won a civil war in less than a day and gain the unhindered access he needed to the deep roads, Veltrand would be on the throne giving the Inquisition what it wanted in diplomatic terms whilst he got to be king. At the same time, Lyrium would be cut off from the Templars giving a devastating blow to the enemy and forcing this ancient Magister to look for other pastures as well as getting rid of another one of its plans.

On the other hand, if this attack failed, it would likely be all over for diplomacy between the Inquisition and Orzammar. A friendly king will have died, the enemy king would have all the evidence it needed to show their people that the Inquisition was indeed plotting against them and that they needed to go to war and he, on the other hand, could potentially end up dead or captured. Personally, he hoped for the latter.

Death may be swift and painless, but it was the end. On the other hand, if he was captured then he would likely be tortured however he could also do some severe damage if he managed to escape and find crucial information or destroy or steal anything of other importance.

Despite all this, Nat could not help the slight shiver that ran down his spine. Facing death had never scared him before, every time he had walked onto the duelling ring he had been aware that his life could be cut short either by a lack of skill on his part, a mistake or the opponent actively trying to kill him. And then he had come to this world where he seemingly faced death on a regular basis having fought against demons, darkspawn's and now even old gods yet he never once flinched in fear from those monsters, not even when he has sensed their overwhelming power and the potential of what they could do. Yet now different.

Subtly, his eyes glanced towards the fingers of his right hand clenched tightly on the hilt of his blade, too tightly. Loosening his grip, he watched in a slight amount of trepidation as he saw then shake. Quickly he returned his finger back onto the hilt of his sword preventing anyone from seeing his fear even as he kept his face calm. It was obvious why he was afraid.

He was essentially a muggle right now as his magic still recovered. There would be no shield charms to defend himself against a bolt, no apparation to allow him to evade a breathtakingly fast strike, not power to freeze a person in sight and no way to turn an enemy into a bloody mess or smash the skull of a pride demon with a cannonball.

He was weak and as much as he hated it, he was also petrified at the thought of actually entering a fight where stealth wasn't involved let alone fighting another mage. They may not be wizards, but against a mortal man it mattered not and now he couldn't help but feel a small amount of true understanding that others felt about mages. Not the type of understanding where you can understand from logic or a person telling and describing it to a person, but the type of understanding that comes after one has truly faced the horror and torture.

It was strange, he was very much another human at this moment and that honestly terrified him. He was used to having the overwhelming advantage that came with magic, he didn't feel afraid of muggles and their guns as whilst they were powerful, he still held the advantage as the spells he could unleash would easily deal with them. His "courage" was not like that of a Gryffindor who was always willing to charge in fists flying without a plan, his bravery was more confidence in the knowledge of overwhelming superiority. If a muggle tried to rob him with a knife then he would eviscerate them with a single spell and remove any and all evidence of them ever existing in the first place. If they had a fighter jet then an Accio charm would likely cause the machine to crash and if they had a tank, then all he needed was a portkey stationed a few kilometres into the sky.

Yet in a few minutes, he was likely going to be with these dwarves as they charged up the richer parts of Orzammar and crashed into the enemies front line with spears, shields, swords and likely Lyrium explosives. Then again, his job was going to be to kill the leaders of the enemy and deal with the Red's mage and all from as far away as he could reliably oot. So about a hundred metres. He shook his head, this was going to be a rather interesting fight, one that had tremendous consequences and could change the entire balance of this war with this ancient Magister. Before he could carry on thinking and allow his concern get to him, the war cry of Veltrand soon broke through the hurried pace centring all attention onto him.

"Men this is the day we win this war, this is the day that we kill the traitors to Orzammar who assisted the dammed Venatori and murdered our king in order to seize power. We will rush up Orzammar and kill any who support either the traitors or the pretenders to the throne and then once we have achieved that we will not only restore peace but will bring Orzammar into a brand new age of glory" Cheers sounded in the room as the dwarves got excited. Blood pump[ed adrenaline down their veins and the feeling of anticipation soon drowned out any dread and fear they might have previously held. To them, this was the day that they would either destroy their enemies and put their rightful king on the throne or they would die in the defence of the Kingdom refusing to see the day in which foul demon scum would take them as slaves. The speech carried on for a bit followed by more cheers and declarations of bravery and commendations to particular individuals who had shown a certain dedication to the cause.

Whilst this happened Nat simply leaned against a stack of crates his eyes closed in an attempt to study his nerves whilst his rifle was clutched tightly to his chest. Finally, a proper fight, not some sneaking around and taking potshots from stealthy positions or killing the enemy before they managed to reach him. Soon he would be staring directly into the eyes of his enemies as he fired shot after shot at the enemy each with the intention to kill them and leave their families heartbroken.

"Agent" Veltrand called out grabbing the attention of the wizard. "I don't care how you do it, but I want you to kill the leaders and any mages they might have. Once their dead, come join the fighting" Nat simply nodded in response before he gave a gentle tap of his clothing ensuring that he had anything he would require close at hand. "What's that face for Cloudhead, we're about to enter a glorious war, kill our enemies and put ourselves in control. Come a few hours we'll all be feasting on succulent meat, drinking the best of wine and fucking any wench we want, what's not to look forward to"

"Good Luck" Was all Nat needed to say before he caught the dwarf with a surprised but soon then dulled look on his face as if he was a child who had been told he couldn't have a sixth helping of food"

"You as well agent, may the Ancestors bless you with success. Come tomorrow your Inquisition will have its Lyrium and a powerful ally" No more words were said after that, no farewell from Nat as he knew not the names of anyone in that building nor did he care to. This was just business, once the battle was done and Veltrand was on the throne a deal between the Inquisition and Orzmar could quickly be put together and shortly afterwards he would then sink back into the depths of the Deep Roads as he searched for his subordinates.

It wasn't long before Nat found himself far away from Dust Town and in a somewhat precarious situation. He hadn't at all waited for Veltrand to make their charge, instead he had acted on his own pace and taken the most direct route there was to the upper levels without having to fight through a countless amount of men and other weapons. Of course, however, that didn't mean it was particularly safe considering the fact that if his grip slipped on the rock he was holding that he would likely fall to a very painful demise.

The reason for his potential painful death, was because he had decided to climb the houses and walls of Orzammar as best he could. It wasn't easy, he had only done rock climbing a total of nine times before each one being a small gift token he had been given during one of his many victories in tournaments and even then that was when he had a particularly annoying piece of rope attached to a very painful harness that was wrapped around his body and threatened to squeeze him to death. Because of this he instead took to climbing up those few peoples houses that had not been built into the rock, they were far safer then him trying to scale what was essentially a cliff and all on a limited time frame and again without the risk of getting spotted. He knew that if he was on a wall and he got spotted and had crossbowmen shooting at him that he was then practically fucked but at least if they tried to shoot him while he was on a house he could shoot back and had the all-important high ground advantage.

Of course, as he did his best to progress as quickly and efficiently towards the highest level of political office, he was very much reminded of the fact that he and Veltrand were more of helping one another than any true sense of allies. And this could be said because he could very much hear the sounds of clanging armour and metal as they climbed up the old Orzammar ramps.

Confused stares turned into shock and horror as the average citizen realised what was happening. A full war party or at least a small war party was rushing as quickly as they could through the blue sides controlled area. Not one to not take such an advantage of a distraction, Nat soon found himself slightly more free to move, as he carried on moving one foot in front of the other on this tall imposing internal mountain as he did his best to make his way to the upper levels.

"Stupid dwarves building everything into the fucking mountain. You couldn't just have convenient little places that stuck out for hand gripping could, no instead it all hs to be bloody recessed making it fucking difficult to climb up. Wankers" Complaining aside, Nat soon managed to move through the rather difficult part of the wall he had been and found himself a sturdier hold as he continued to ascend upwards. As he ascended upwards though, he couldn't help but find himself slightly amused at the fact that not one guard dared so much as to glance upwards as they still moved.

Normally this would be acceptable to the wizard, but he was in the heart of Orzammar, a place that was known for its mining of rare valuable materials and apparently civil wars. Had nobody once ever thought to simply climb the inside of the mountain itself to get to their enemy or had the dwarfs gotten so used to being terrified of the sky that they wouldn't even so much as dare to climb the inside of their own home. Either way, he didn't dare t start complaining, he may not have the infamous Potter luck that had screwed over the legendary Gryffindor a few decades ago, but there was still Sod's law and he would much prefer to kill his enemy rather than being the one who ended up in a barbeque for someone.

It wasn't easy for him to move around as he did, there were many times when Nat nearly plummeted to his death when he gripped a piece of loose stone or the space between his foot and the next hold was too high forcing the wizard into more drastic actions. Plus with the sound of constant battle occurring beneath him, he was constantly aware that he was not only on a time frame to succeed, but that all it took for his plan to be uncovered was one dwarf who was knocked on their ass. Finally though after an untold amount of climbing and banging his rifle against his shoulder which did more to annoy him than actually do any damage thanks to the enchantments on his clothes, he made it up to the highest level of Orzammar entirely unseen.

Heaving himself with a powerful grip, Nat climbed up onto one of the few small buildings which were separate from the cliff and allowed himself a few moments to catch his breath. Once his rest was finished, he gradually moved to the edge of the building and scanned the local area as best he could, searching for any of his targets.

Fortunately, the area was mostly clear of guards with the only remaining ones bein stationed at the entrance to the upper level with their weapons bared and another two which sat outside the house of the royal household. Nat grit his teeth, this was going to be difficult. The two guards outside the throne were the kingsguard as were the other group guarding the main entrance. He could perhaps kill the two guarding the front door, but that would require either a sword or a musket which again required for him to either cross the open area between this building and the guards or fire his rifle and alert the entire place.

This was going to be quite the puzzle he had to get around, he had limited time enemies he couldn't kill less he alert others and trap himself between a bunch of angry Kingsguard and a stone wall or be forced to jump off the highest level. A distraction was the only real method he was going to get inside or explosives, the black powder did have the nice little effect of making people die rather quickly.

Nat grinned, something like a throwing a rock was not going to move those guards, doing so would leave the palace exposed and that was even without mentioning the unknown number of guards who were still in the building waiting for some sort of signal to storm out which again was not something that would occur if one guard got distracted by a stone. However, if there was a powerful explosion around the feet of the larger group, then it was possible that it would be seen as an attack forcing the main lot of guards to run after anyone they saw as a threat leaving just two alone.

Quickly, Nat brought out another set of explosives that he had on him and quietly lit them, Targetting the large bunch of Kingsguard, he lobbed the makeshift grenade as hard as he possibly could before then moving as silently as he could down the side of the building and out of the sight of the Kings guard. He was going to have to be fast, if the Kingsguard were any good at their job then they would stay where they are ready to defend their king to their dying breath. He would soon find out as an explosion ripped through the air.

There was no warning for the Kingsguard as to what was about to happen, one moment they were all in position glaring at the door as they waited for a possible enemy to come marching through the next thing they heard as the sound of a metal gauntlet clenching.

"What in the ancestors," A guard said having caught the strange thing that had been launched at them. His eyes widened in an instant as he saw a strange powder in a glass sound and a small flame reaching towards the powder. The guard wasted no time, instead leaning back ready to throw the explosive back as quickly as he could before then launching it. The guard was too late however as the moment the strange explosives had travelled a quarter of a metre, the flame struck the powder.

Blasting from its container, a fireball engulfed the guard and all those who had been within close proximity, burning the flesh of their face whilst the pressure wave smashed apart their armour into fragments and sent them catapulting into the guard's bodies. To those who were slightly further away, the sheer force tore off limbs in a bloody fashion sending them soaring into the air whilst like their comrades they were then pelted with small jagged stones that ripped straight through their expensive armour and into their fleshy meaty bodies. The last group of those guards who were farther away were only blown off their feet by the blast and sent smashing back by the force however they were not able to avoid the debris and screamed as they bodies started to be impaled by many small high-speed objects at once.

Horror struck, the two soldiers by the door turned their bodies in unseen shock. One went to dash towards their fellow comrades but were stopped by the other who laid a firm hand on their shoulder and shook their head. Obviously, this one was aware, that they had their own orders to stand by and that was to protect the king's door.

Help arrived soon though as with the sound of elephants the soldiers that had been inside the palace came thundering our armed to the teeth and rushed out with unmatched discipline and fury. Without so much as a word being spoken, they made their way quickly towards their fallen comrades and bypassed them completely as they charged what they assumed to be an enemy who had managed to bypass their main force and was charging up the stairs to attack their king. Despite this though, a few were left behind and rushed to their fallen comrades checking up on their injuries with years of experience.

From his now more hidden position, Nat kept his face calm as he slowly began to sneak up on the two gate guards. Even though they had not rushed into battle, their brief shock and action of staring at the bodies of their many dead friends had given the wizard the time he required to slip away unnoticed and emerge from the other side of the Diamond Quater.

From here Nat with his crossbows snuck as closely as he could behind the two of them without getting noticed and then gently leant one of them on the side of the wall. Unlike with the lower level ones where he could get into close proximity where aiming was far easier, Nat instead chose to be at a further distance that would not be detected by the sound of his boots moving on the floor.

Aiming his weapon, he delicately guided his the weapon to the back of the more veterans neck and fired. Before he even had a chance however to notice the result of his shot, he then snatched up the other crossbow and aimed far more rapidly and shot once again whereupon afterwards he drew his sabre and marched towards the two swiftly. It was a good thing as well as whilst the first shot had indeed slipped into the veterans armour, it had not gone where he wanted to and instead impacted the guards left shoulder blade. The second shot was even less accurate and had only managed to thump into the guard's armour.

What actually killed the two of them, however, was the younger one's compassion. As soon as the first man had been hit, the younger guard had stared at his teacher in concern hoping to assist him before then jolting back as he then felt the thump on his back. That monetary distraction and jolt as he reacted were all it required as within an instant a sabre gave the final blow to the younger one's neck and then drove into the veterans face and straight into the brain.

Stepping inside the building, Nat quickly drew his rifle as his main weapon and proceeded as cautiously as he could. The room, was rather decorative, rich carpets, old paintings, stone statues of one paragon or the other and a whole host of weapons however the most important things Nat identified, were the occasional scroll that had been left out all the while a series of fires gave light to the room and allowed Nat to see.

He ignored all of it, however, instead deciding to move as quickly as he possibly could through the building and towards the door at the back where he knew the current king would lie, his feet making an audible pattern as they graced the old surprisingly noise stone floor. Just as he reached the door, however, the sound of another's angry footsteps made themselves known.

Moving rapidly towards the door, Nat felt the presence of magic but before Nat even had the chance to take cover, the metal door swung wide open to reveal none other than a human male wrapped in old looking robes. Nat fired instantly the sound of the rifle alerting all those in the building that there was someone there. The mage being paranoid however had already cast a barrier around himself and so as the bullet simply bounced off, the mage, in turn, narrowed his cold vicious eyes on the one who had just tried to kill him.

"Inquisition" He hissed for a second before a dark smile ran across his face as he realised just who was in front of him. "Oh and not just any random one, rather it's the "Heralds" little pet. I'm surprised you even survived the deep roads." Throwing himself to the floor the moment that his bullet had bounced, he rolled his body to the side just barely narrowing a rather simple spell that he could tell was not aimed too much as to kill him as it was to injure him. The mage however only grinned in excitement and stepped forwards with lightning bouncing on his fingertips.

Nat smashed his rifle up at the mage however once again the mage showed his combat experience as he dodged it narrowly before then launching his spell at the wizard with a hiss and crackle of energy. Once again Nat dodged it as years of training and experience came flooding back and gave him the ability to dash out of the way as a plume of fire came racing towards him and set the furniture on fire.

"I would ask you how you survived the deep roads, but it is of no matter, the Elder one will be pleased with your capture. He will turn you into a loyal servant boy, one which will do his every command. He will make you the leader of his armies as he crushed what remains of your pitiful organisation." The mage chuckled darkly at the thought. "What do you think boy, will the rest of your silly group still oppose us when they see that one of their own inner council members leads the Templars against them," Nat said nothing, instead, he was forced to crash to the ground as the mage sent a cone of cold at him with the intention of trapping him where he stood. "There's no point in fighting boy, you can't hit me even if you tried"

Rolling past another bout of devastating flame, Nat drew his sabre however instead of going to strike the mage as the man would have expected, Nat instead took off past the previously closed doors.

"No" The mage roared in utter fury flinging a wave of telekinetic power as he realised that the boy was aiming at killing the king. Launched his feet and sent smashing into the other room, Nat grunted as he stood back up and used his sabre to help him pull himself up. The mage however only yelled in fury and went to rush towards the mage hoping to prevent him from progressing any father, but it was too late.

Having managed to drag the mage away to the other side of the room, Nat was given all the time he needed to evade the mage's magic as he was now out of sight and burst into the last room. With the metal doors banging loudly against the stone, the king which was, in fact, the dwarf who Nat had initially spoken to when he arrived barely had enough time to stare in fear before the sabre sliced straight into the dwarf's heart and then yanked upwards through the ribs and then out through the brain.

"No" Eyes writhing in unmatched fury, the mage shot out his hands at the wizard sending out a burst of powerful lightning at the boy. In defence, Nat raised his arms upwards shielding his exposed face as he felt the magical lightning begin to slam into the defensive charms of his clothing and begin to overpower the spells and instead start to actually strike and hurt him with a rapidly growing amount of pain. "You have ruined everything"

Narrowing his eyes dangerously at the Mage with his sabre still drawn, Nat pushed aside the biting pain of being electrocuted and with a slight grunt of his own stood up on his feet where with a sudden burst of strength raced towards the mage.

Eyes widening, the mage stepped to the side and avoided the strike before then with another blast of telekinetic energy slammed the wizard so hard onto the floor that he fell entirely limp to the ground. Everything went silent as the mage stared at the body of the wizard. There wasn't any moving, not even the slow rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, not even the slight twitch of his arms and not even a flicker of his eyes as blood began to pour down from an open head wound on the boys face. Seconds turned into a few minutes and a grin emerged on the mages face as he saw the state in which his quarry was now in.

"Pathetic" The mage scowled. "You a supposed mage tried to kill me a Magister from Tevinter with such pathetic tactics it's a disgrace" The mage watched the corpse for a few more seconds waiting for any spark of life to come back out of it whatever that may be however nothing came. With a smirk, the mage turned around and sighed. "I just hope the Elder One does not punish me for my-"

A blasting pain erupted from the mages chest, forcing him to sink to his knees as his head began to feel dizzy and light headed. Nothing else mattered to the mage as with fearful eyes he stared at his clothing now quickly staining with the red of blood. Gingerly, his hand began to light up as he focused on a healing spell and laid it on his chest.

"Nice tr-" The mage taunted only for his body to collapse as once again the enchanted sabre ripped straight through the flesh, muscle and bone that held the body together ripping the head off its body and sending it colliding to the floor.

"Stupid twat's always fucking monologing" Not done, Nat grabbing a nearby statue of some paragon soon raised the item up before then smashing it hard onto the decapitated heads face again and again until after a few seconds of irritated anger escaped him, the head no longer held any of its shape where once completed he stood up with a satisfied smile quickly grabbed his weapons and walked out of the kings accommodation and went to find the next enemy.

Hours Later

"We did it" Veltrand laughed gloriously. In his hand, he held a goblet filled to the brim with wine that had been sacked from the king's cellar and opened. "We actually fucking did it"

"And in only one fucking day as well" Raising their cup one of the other dwarves cheered loudly as he and the rest of anyone with any importance casually sat in the king's chambers.

"Indeed, it was rather fortunate" Veltrand shook his head at the comment before then focusing on the so-called man of the hour.

"Agent, come join us. you fucking deserve a drink after what you did in that fucking battle" Nat shook his head at the invitation instead preferring to keep his hand gripped around his sword and his mind of the fact that he now had blood splattered all over his face and hair. It was going be a bitch to get that out, but at least the fucking war was won.

"With respect your majesty I'm afraid I have other priorities and would therefore prefer to get the negotiation done as quickly as possible so that I may enter the Deep Roads once again" Veltrand blinked at the calm tone that the young mage spoke with, they had just won a glorious battle, killed all of the pretenders and had managed to win a civil war all in a single day thanks to his help yet he didn't dare to rest.

"Again? Would it not be safer for you to rest and recover" Nat shook his head as he faced the door.

"My subordinates were still in the Deep Roads when I left, they're my responsibility and I will not abandon them" Veltrand nodded slowly. Letting out a sigh, the dwarf soon grabbed another goblet of wine that had been laying on a nearby table and walked forwards to the agent who had won him his victory.

"Very well" He spoke slowly yet Nat could tell that the dwarf was not sad to see him leave so soon, in fact, it was likely the opposite how does ten gold per crate sound" Nat shook his head instantly.

"Six" He replied without a further word. While ten was technically a discount, it wasn't by much and with the state that the Inquisition was in, the cost of ten gold per crate was just far too expensive at the moment, which would likely lead to an economic disaster for the Inquisition

"Eight" Veltrand gave his next offer

"Five"

"That's ridiculous" Veltrand swore as he stared at the boy.

"May I remind you that the only reason that we are currently negotiating is that, the Inquisition not only killed a demon who had possessed your king, but had also dealt a swift and devastating blow to crush your enemies and end the civil war. If word got out about how the new king cares nothing at all for those who assist him, then it is very possible that one's reputation could be affected." The glare that Veltrand gave could have frozen rivers had he been born a mage, his eyes twitched and Nat saw the man reach for his sword. So that was the type of kind they were going to have to deal with.

"I said that Orzammar would lend its aid" Nat raised a gentle eyebrow.

"Oh, so you are planning on emptying your city of its soldiers or were you instead of thinking of delivering a certain amount of free arms and armour. If that was the case then I could accept a better deal however if not then the Inquisition needs something more tangible to showcase your support" Around him Nat watched subtly as the other dwarves listened as subtly as they could to their conversation. Some of them he noticed was rather angry at his demand for such a low price of Lyrium especially since the average price per crate was about twelve gold and he was asking for at least half.

"And why ever should I pay such an exorbitant amount" Veltrand shouted in a drunken manner.

"Because your customer base is growing slim" Nat answered without missing a single beat. Casually, he darted his head towards a map of the entire continent only where human maps just had the continents, this map instead had a map of the Deep Roads or at least the ones that could be used in the modern day for supplying goods and items. "Let's see, the Chantry only bought Lyrium for the mages and Templars, bot of whom have rebelled and turned into separate factions. One of which has joined us whilst the other is our enemy and tried to take over Orzammar. That then leaves the nations of the continent, Tevinter could work, but knowing the Venatori they will likely intercept every single shipment for themselves and if not then they will likely have allies in high up circles. And as for helping you, Tevinter is too far away and has yet to offer any aid in fighting the Venatori.

"Then we have the Free Marches who look like they are going to go into a civil war as they fight one another for more land. The Anderfells is again another possibility, but transporting anything that far north leaves it exposed and outside of the protection of the Inquisition, the same is also true of Rivain. Neverra and Antiva, on the other hand, don't buy very much Lyrium and especially not anymore with their mages and templars all gone."

"That then leaves us with Ferelden and Orlais. In the case of the former, they didn't buy Lyrium besides the amount needed for their Templars and Mages, which then leaves us Oralais. Now admittedly, they did buy Lyrium so they could keep up their fancy paintings and arts, lights and bloody lava lamps. However, they're in a civil war right now, and despite their more... chivalrous attitude to killing one another, the fact remains that they won't be spending money on decorative lamps until they get their shit sorted out." Nat didn't even have to mention Par Vollen considering that the dwarves and the Qun did barely if any trade and especially not in Lyrium considering that it was connected to magic.

"That just leaves you to selling to other smaller parties. The Templars are now powered by Red Lyrium and your direct enemy" Something that Nat had heard from a trader before he had arrived. "Which leaves us to the Inquisition, we are the only group who is not only sworn to kill those who had insulted your fair people, but also the only ones who can buy in large enough bulk and keep supply routes secure."

"Exactly" Veltrand grinned as if he had won a great game. "You need us more then we need you. So you're going to pay the ten gold and nothing else"

"No we won't" Nat spoke casually. Before Veltrand could question him, however, Nat gave a slight business-like intimidating smile. "You think we're so foolish as to rely on a single supply. Please... we're in contact with every illegal mining and smuggling operation on the continent we could easily create our own supply and sell it if we wanted. It'll take some time to set up and a bit of a hassle to run, but none the less we get our Lyrium and at the same time devastate Orzammars entire economy causing a massive depression that could take decades to recover from hampering your economic and likely technological growth. Of which, you would then struggle to be more than some pathetic poor kingdom underground".

"We'd fight you" Veltrand growled in pure fury however instead of managing to draw his sword to showcase his annoyance with the young human, he instead only managed to take one step forward where he promptly lost his balance and fell headfirst onto the table with a loud thump.

Nat shook his head, drunk people were idiots.

"Do you seriously think that Orzammar on its own could fight the combined might of all of Thedas. No kingdom will want to be your ally, not when the Inquisition mines get opened and sell our crates for half your average price as the going rate, and that's before deals and special offers. Think about it, one lone city with a declining population against every other kingdom and all of whom could survive without your imports, absolutely devastating your entire economy and leaving you as nothing but a shadow of your former self." Veltrand roared in fury once again from his position, however his dizzied mind and bright red face from all the wine he had been drinking, couldn't so much as concentrate on the black blur that was speaking to him. He blinked, just what in the Paragons name had been in that wine.

"We're dwarves" Veltrand hicced. "We'll win" In a bored tone Nat glanced at the other dwarves, like their leader they had all started drinking a brand of rather heavy and expensive wine that had far more volume than sense. It was why he was negotiating now if Veltrand was sober it would be far harder to get what he wanted however if he was a drunken lout like he currently was, then he could get some amazing benefits and all of which were augmented by the psychological destruction of Orzammar.

He was lying of course about the mines, to his knowledge, the Inquisition held no such valuable resources, but Veltrand was not stupid despite what his current state suggested. He was aware that there were more dwarves on the surface then there were down in Orzammar and he also knew that they held no loyalty to the city that was once the capital of their ancestors. As such it wasn't an implausible thing for another group of dwarves to start their own mining operation and from that build an empire that Orzammar could never compete with.

It was that overwhelming fear that Nat was counting on to get his way, complete paranoia combined with a large amount of alcohol that would likely leave them with no memory of this moment would get what he wanted and how he wanted. He chuckled to himself internally, despite his tactics, he would likely be considered nothing but a novice by the Slytherins in getting this deal. Whereas he was using fear, alcoholism, a dim mind and other things to his advantages, Slytherins would instead prefer to have a large debate of cunning when both were at their best so they could show just how skilful and manipulative they were. In other words, he was sloppy, uneducated and not at all suited for politics and yet Nat was fine with that. Politics wasn't his strong suit, he knew it, understood it and could direct beginners in it, but it didn't interest him, not like how a good book or understanding the mysteries of magic would entertain him.

"No you won't, you were afraid of one mage, imagine if you had to fight hundreds all at the same time" Veltrand slammed his head against the map in pain as the drunken image came to him. All that fire, all that lightning. He shuddered, unnatural magic was, didn't work as dwarves did, far too messy and dangerous.

"Fine" Veltrand sighed angrily. He tried to raise his head, and search for a piece of parchment and have a document written up but Nat was far faster and instead handed the man a piece of white A4 paper with a list of terms that Veltrand could not read due to his now blurry vision.

"Just sign here and here," Nat said. Veltrand did so quickly, once he was done Nat also signed them before then. Once that was complete, Nat grabbed Veltrands slightly injured arm and gently with his glove-covered finger snatched some of the dwarves blood up and planted it on the document before then doing the same with his own. "There now we're done. Good luck to you king Veltrand"

Then without a further word, Nat quietly slipped out eh building, document in tow and headed towards the Deep Roads.

He had some subordinates in need of saving.