"So, let me guess," Rowena said dully as she propped herself up against a tree. "This one also has to be the road to Haven."

Leliana looked up from the map she was reading and scowled. "Don't be cynical, Rowena, you sound like Morrigan. And for your information, yes, I do think that this does have to be the road to Haven."

Eruestan sighed and shifted his feet, trying to ignore how much pain they were in. They had been on the road for about three weeks, and everyone's patience was running a little thin. Not that he blamed them, of course. He, too, was starting to crave a solid night's sleep in a warm bed and a bath that didn't involve plunging into a freezing cold river. Making matters worse, they had begun to run low on money, which meant significant cuts to the daily food budget. The sooner they could find Haven, the better.

That, however, was proving harder than they had first anticipated. "It simply has to be up this mountain," Leliana said for the fifth time that week. She peered closely at the map she had torn from Brother Genitivi's atlas as if pleading for it to reveal something she had previously overlooked. "I just don't understand!" she huffed. "All these mountains, and yet so far all we've managed to find is a bunch of snow and dead trees!"

"Look on the bright side, my fine-looking friend," Zevran said, looking at his reflection in one of his daggers. "They were very tall dead trees, at the very least."

Eruestan gave a small laugh and peered closer at the map in Leliana's hands. Then, of course, there was Zevran. Within three weeks, the assassin had already begun treating the rest of them as though they were his oldest friends. Zevran had a joke or an outlandish story for everything and was the first to try to flatter any of them, particularly Wynne and her bosom. While it drove the enchanter mad, it had been enough to win over most of the others. In the end, the assassin was more likely to sleep with them than try to kill them.

Zevran ran a hand through his hair, showing off the tattoos along his defined biceps. Eruestan gulped. Zevran was also ridiculously handsome. That certainly didn't hurt, either.

"Guys, Zevran's right," Rowena said. "We should keep a positive attitude about this. This village has to be somewhere – if it's not up this road, we'll keep looking until we find it."

"Please, bellissima, call me Zev," he purred, winking at her. "All of my friends call me Zev."

Alistair snorted, his face suddenly flushed. "Friends? Who says we're your friends?"

Zevran pressed a hand to his heart. "You wound me, Alistair."

"Zev, be quiet, you're distracting me," Eruestan said, trying to concentrate on Genitivi's map. For some reason, he was suddenly jealous of Rowena and the attention Zevran gave her. The elf hardly ever spoke to him in camp, preferring to flirt with literally everyone else. He had even tried to chat up Sten, although the Qunari had almost threatened to cut him in half. Eruestan, however, was treated with the utmost respect. He tried to focus harder on the map, unwilling to think about what that lack of attention might mean. He had never cared too much about attracting someone else before – why should it matter now?

To his surprise, though, Zevran looked over at him and winked. "You see? Eruestan calls me 'Zev'."

The mage flushed. Alistair, however, crossed his arms. "Eruestan's more forgiving than I am," he said.

Zevran sighed and put a hand on the knight's shoulder. "Alistair, my friend, why hold on to the grudges of the past? Let bygones be bygones!"

Alistair shrugged off his hand in shock. "You tried to kill us!"

"And who hasn't tried to kill you?" Zevran asked. "You'll never make any new friends if you hold onto that attitude."

"Good!" Alistair said, his voice cracking in astonishment. "I don't want to befriend people who are trying to murder me!"

"Both of you!" Eruestan and Leliana snapped. "Quiet!"

"Look, this is the last road for miles," Wynne pointed out, looking at the map with them. "If it's not up here, it's not anywhere."

Eruestan sighed. "I just wish there were a sign, a road marker, anything."

"Something tells me these people do not wish to be found," Morrigan said. She had been wearing a new gold chain since they left Denerim, exactly the sort of thing Eruestan would have never imagined she would like. He wondered where she found it. "I doubt we shall find any sign that they are here."

"Good point," he said. He sighed and shook his head. "Fine, let's head up the road – but not so fast, Zev. We don't want to charge into this village if they're going around killing people."

"Killing people is my specialty," he reminded him, nodded his head. Eruestan rolled his eyes, secretly pleased to engage with him like that. "But, seeing as you, unlike some people, have called me Zev, I shall comply."

"I'm gonna kill him," Alistair muttered as the assassin pulled ahead.

"Somebody's jealous," Rowena teased, walking next to him.

Alistair looked at her in horror. "What? I'm not jealous! What would I be jealous of?"

"There's another good-looking, funny blond in the group," Leliana giggled. "You feel threatened."

"I do not!" Alistair looked desperately around, seeing the malicious looks on everyone's faces. "It's not true! I've got tons of stuff going for me that he doesn't!"

"Quite right, Alistair," Morrigan said. "You are still the group idiot, after all."

He scowled. "Thanks, Morrigan."

The path suddenly began to steepen, making them lapse into silence as they forced their way upwards. The autumn air was bracing, chilling Eruestan's lungs. Every now and then a burst of wind barreled down the mountain, slamming into them and making them gasp with cold. The view, however, was magnificent. The Bannorn stretched out below as far as the eye could see. He had never seen such open space before.

"The beauty attracts your eye, my friend," Zevran said, coming up to him out of nowhere.

Eruestan looked over and smiled at him. Zevran had stunning dark green eyes, like emeralds. "It's breathtaking," he said, gesturing at the view. "You don't get anything like that at the Circle of Magi."

"Ah, the famous Tower of Ferelden," Zevran said, grinning. "I have heard many stories of life in your Circle."

"I shudder to think what those might be," Wynne said, coming up from behind them. "Outsiders get the strangest ideas about what we do."

"Orgies," Zevran said bluntly. "Free love everywhere. Blood-fueled sex rites under the full moon."

Wynne paused. "Fair enough, actually. Besides the blood part."

"Not for me!" Eruestan said, laughing in shock. "What are you enchanters getting up to?"

"Physical expression!" Zevran said, turning to him. "Joy! Life! Are you so against pleasure, amico mio?"

"Of course I'm not," Eruestan said, raising an eyebrow. "It's just not something I really think about, that's all."

"Not at all?" The assassin sounded horrified. "Surely you jest? It is all I ever think about!"

"No one doubted that, Zevran," Eruestan said, flushing slightly. "I just – it's not my area of expertise, that's all."

Zevran frowned at him as though he were some sort of mystical creature. "You have…partaken, haven't you?"

"This is getting very sordid," Wynne said, wrinkling her nose. "Can't we go back to talking about the view?"

Eruestan was fully blushing by then. The conversation suddenly reminded him of a particularly awkward moment he had passed when he was sixteen, back when Jowan had convinced him to go to one of the apprentice parties at the Tower. He had ended up in a dark corner of a classroom with one of the older apprentices, and the resulting memories were sufficiently embarrassing to make him shudder to that day. "Let's just nothing worth mentioning has happened, at least."

Zevran looked aghast. "Well, no wonder you are so stressed! This must be rectified, my friend, sooner rather than later." He bowed before him and then looked up, pausing slightly. "My services will always be there for you should you need them."

Eruestan's heart started racing. Still, he managed to smirk and say, "We'll see about that."

"The same applies to all my fellows," the assassin added loudly, turning towards the others before he could make eye contact with Eruestan. "Particularly Wynne and her extraordinary bosom."

"Stop talking about my bosom," Wynne hissed. She suddenly stopped and leaned against her staff. Eruestan looked over at her in alarm. "I'm fine!" she said quickly. "Just…lost a bit of energy for a moment."

Eruestan furrowed his brow. As infrequent as her faint spells were, something about them made him very concerned. . "You know, Wynne," he said quietly, letting the two of them fall back from the rest of the group, "you never did explain to me about what's happening to you."

Her face grew a bit stiff. "I don't know if now's the time…"

"We may be about to enter a village full of bloodthirsty killers," Eruestan said. "We may not have many more opportunities to talk about it."

She sighed. "Fine—though don't tell the others just yet, I don't know how they'll handle it…I'm fine," she said, looking at the expression on his face. "I'm not in any danger, nor is anyone else, I'm just in a…delicate situation."

"Define delicate," he said.

"Back at the Tower," she said, carefully choosing her words. "I…well, I died."

He blinked. "You…you what?"

"I used too much energy," she said, glancing at him. "My barriers drained me, and when the demon attacked I died. I saw myself fall to the ground – I could feel myself start to enter the Fade."

Eruestan wasn't sure what to say. "So…are you a ghost?"

"Not quite," she said, smiling. "Before my spirit vanished totally, I was suddenly surrounded by a great warmth and strength. It was a force I recognized – I've spent a great deal of time in the Fade, and this spirit was a friend I had made long ago."

Eruestan didn't like where this was going. "Ok…"

"The spirit brought me back," she said. "It's what's sustaining me now. That's why my energy comes and goes – I depend on a spirit for my life-force."

He stopped short and looked at her in horror. "Wynne," he said. "You're an Abomination."

She sighed. "You don't like to mince words, do you?"

"Sorry," he said, blushing. "But it's still true."

"I know," she said, looking out onto the plains. "I'm not fully comfortable with the idea myself. But you should know that this spirit is friendly. It only want to help."

"Uldred thought the same, I bet," he said quietly.

Wynne's head snapped toward. "Do not compare me to Uldred," she said, voice quiet and firm. "I did not bring this upon myself."

"But it still happened." The two mages stared at each other for a moment. "I need to think about this, Wynne," Eruestan said finally, looking down. "I know you mean well, but this goes against everything the Tower has ever taught me. But I won't tell the others – that's up to you."

"I appreciate that," she said, voice gentler. "I understand how difficult it must be for you to process – it was for me as well. But I truly think this spirit is friendly."

He started to say something else. However, at that moment someone called out to them from up ahead. "Eruestan, Wynne!" Rowena shouted. "We've found it!"

The two mages frowned and pushed ahead. A low wall was stretched out in front of them, blocking the rest of the path. The others were crowded around a small gate. "Are you sure this is it?" Eruestan asked.

"How many hidden mountain villages can there be?" Leliana asked. "This has to be it."

"That, or we spend the next five years scouring Ferelden for a village that may not even exist," Sten growled. "Regardless, I am cold. We might as well ask to come in."

Rowena picked up a rock and rammed it into the gate, creating a loud bang that echoed in the mountain air. There was a moment's pause as the sound slowly faded. Then, a small window in the gate creaked open. "Who goeth herein?" a man yelled, sword bared. His Fereldan was strange and archaic, as if he was speaking from a history book. "Wherefore come you to Haven?"

Eruestan and Rowena exchanged a look; they had already decided how to approach this. "We're travelers," she said. "We thought we might trade here and pass the night."

"How did you us find?" the man asked, frowning. "No sign lieth upon the path."

"We got a little lost," Eruestan said. "We were looking for Orzammar, but we ended up here."

The guard was silent for a moment. "Outsiders are not welcome in Haven," he said.

"We won't stay long," Rowena said. "Just for the night."

"Very well," the man said. "The inn lieth at the heart of the village. You shalt go there direct and stay till the morn."

"That sounds fine," Eruestan said. "Can we come in now?"

The guard closed the hatch, then opened the gate. "Welcome to Haven, Outsiders."

They filed in through the entrance and paused, looking around the village. Haven consisted of about fifteen houses and a tavern clustered at the foot of a long slope. A small chantry lay at the end of the village, nestled against the wall of the mountain. The sun was already starting to set, and a cold night air had started to blow through Haven. The villagers they could see were hurrying to get home, many of them stopping and staring at the outsiders who had just arrived.

"Doesn't look too dangerous," Alistair murmured as they walked towards the tavern.

"Don't fall for it," Rowena said. "Remember Weylon."

A small child stopped them in their tracks. "Wherefore are you in Haven?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Outsiders are not welcome here!"

"We're just staying the night," Leliana said kindly, crouching down. "What's your name, little man?"

He glared at her for a moment, then yanked her hair and raced across the village square. "Ow!" she said, standing straight up. "Why, that little—"

"This village may not be prove as awful as we thought," Morrigan said with a smirk.

"Let's get to the tavern," Eruestan said, looking over his shoulder. "That guard is still staring at us…"

"I don't like this place," Alistair said. The houses around them were crude and dark, but they could still see the faces of the villagers staring at them through the windows. "The sooner we get out of here, the better."

The tavern in Haven was a squat, two-story building with no windows and a low-hanging roof. As they entered the inn, the few villagers sitting around the fire turned around to glare at them. It was a quiet place, devoid of all the carousing Eruestan had come to expect from a village pub. Clearly bemused herself, Rowena went up to the barkeep. "We'd like to rent a few rooms for the night," she said.

The barkeep stared at them, his eyes lingering on Eruestan, Zevran, and Sten. "Outsiders are not—"

"Welcome here, yeah, yeah, we get it," Alistair said. "We have the coin to pay for it."

"Lowlander coin hath no worth in Haven," the barkeep said. "Hast thou somewhat to trade?"

"No coin?" he asked, shocked. "I don't…do we have anything?"

"Take this," Zevran said, pulling a silver amulet off his neck. "I have no use for it."

"Are you sure?" Eruestan asked, concerned.

He nodded. "It is the sign of the Crows. A bit meaningless now."

The barkeep examined it. "Quality silver," he said, tapping it against another coin he had lying on the counter. "This shall suffice. I have two rooms for thee and thy band – they lieth above the stairs." He paused. "However, thy hound must remain outdoors."

"I don't think you want to try to separate us," Rowena said. Cormac started to growl softly.

The barkeep gulped. "Very well. The hound may with thee rest."

"Perfect," she said. "Thank you!"

The group then bought a few bowls of a lumpy stew and sat down around the fire. They ate in silence for a few minutes, aware of the intense looks the villagers were giving them. Eruestan glanced at Leliana, who cleared her throat and turned to the nearest villager. "So it appears you don't see very many strangers in these parts," she said warmly. "That must make life rather boring."

"Life in Haven is perfect," he said. "No outsider could understand."

"Right, right," she said. "Have you had any other visitors, though? Anyone passing through?"

Eruestan noticed that everyone else in the tavern was suddenly paying even closer attention to her. "Not to my knowing, no," the man said, sipping from his stein.

"Huh," she said, examining her nails. "Funny, we met a man a while ago who couldn't stop talking about Haven – his name was Genitivi, maybe he came by here?"

He set his mug down. The others in the bar were now glaring at them, and Eruestan thought he saw the bartender reach for something under the counter. "This is not a name of which I know," the villager said harshly. "But halt thy asking – thou shalt anger many in Haven should thou asketh more."

"Of course," she said quickly, turning away from him. "My apologies, I was just curious."

"Be not so, then." He turned around and went back to his drink.

"I think we should go upstairs now," Rowena murmured, glancing around the bar. "We're not going to get anything from anyone now. Tomorrow we take a look around town, see if we can't find Genitivi."

Nodding to the barkeep, the group set down their bowls and made their way upstairs. "Ah, now it is time to divvy out the beds," Zevran said, rubbing his hands together. "Who wishes to bunk with me?"

"Not it," everyone else said.

He sighed. "Oh, come now, all joking aside, I am a very respectful man. You can sleep safely next to me." He paused. "Unless, of course, you have more than sleep in mind, in which case I will be more than willing to oblige you."

"Gee, makes you wonder why we have trouble trusting you," Alistair said.

Eruestan sighed. "I'll do it, Zevran. But keep the innuendo to a minimum."

"Now that I cannot control," the elf said, winking. "Come join me in bed, my fine friend."

"I already regret this," Eruestan muttered, trying to hide a smile as the assassin walked into room.

"As Rowena is the only one left of you who does not annoy me, I shall be with her," Morrigan said, walking into the other room.

"And I'll bunk with Wynne," Leliana said.

Alistair scratched his head. "So that leaves me with…Sten…"

The Qunari scowled at him. "Hog the blankets and you won't survive the night."

"Eruestan!" Alistair said hastily. "I'll trade with you!"

"Zevran might be just as dangerous," Rowena said, winking.

He shrugged. "Between death and being fondled, I prefer living. Besides, Zevran looks like he knows what he's doing, I might even enjoy it."

Eruestan sighed, trying to keep his face from flushing. "You two are incorrigible."

"That's why you like us, admit it," Alistair said. "And at least I don't have to share a bed with Morrigan."

"I like Morrigan," Rowena said. "Her heart's in the right place."

"Provided she even has one…but hey, better you than me." He smiled at her. "Be sure to practice those meditation techniques I taught you; the more you do them, the better you'll be able to resist magic."

"You're worse than my old tutor," she teased. "But I will, don't worry."

"Great." They smiled at each other for a moment, and Eruestan eventually had to roll his eyes and cough. "Right, well, have a good night!" Alistair said hastily.

"You too," she said, walking into the next room with Cormac. "Try not to let Sten kill you."

It had been a long time since Eruestan had shared a bed with someone. The bunks at the Tower were narrow to discourage the apprentices from spending the night together. It was a rule regularly broken, but one that he had always followed. Having someone there now was both strange and, to his chagrin, exciting. That, of course, made matters much more complicated. Still unsure as to how Zevran felt about him (or how he felt about him himself), Eruestan had taken to lying very still to keep from bothering the assassin.

Zevran, however, was very respectful, and had turned away from Eruestan towards the rest of the room. He in turn was nestled against the wall, making sure that his breathing was as quiet as possible. In the middle of the room, Alistair was rolling around on the floor mumbling about sheep in his sleep, long since kicked out of the bed by Sten.

"Does he always do that?" Zevran murmured out of nowhere.

Eruestan started. He'd thought the assassin was asleep. "I don't know," he whispered back. "Camp's usually too loud to hear anything like that."

Zevran laughed softly. "Well, he should be careful. Otherwise, he might say something he might find embarrassing."

"Rowena, don't…" Alistair mumbled loudly. "Sheep…painful…don't…get hurt…"

Zevran sighed. "Ah, young love. How sweet." There was a moment's pause. "You should relax, my friend."

Eruestan blushed in the dark and looked over. "I'm perfectly relaxed."

"You have not moved nor made a noise for an hour, and yet you are awake," Zevran said, turning around. "Either you are a trained member of the Crows, or you are tense because you worry about disturbing my rest. As your many talents do not yet include killing for pay, I must imagine that it is the latter."

Eruestan smiled in spite of himself. "Sorry, I didn't want to bother you…"

"Be at ease, Eruestan," Zevran said. "You do not bother me."

There was something very reassuring about that. Eruestan shifted into a more comfortable position as Zevran turned back around. Smiling, the mage closed his eyes and almost instantly fell asleep.

A giant dragon was giving a lesson back at the Circle Tower. "What is the transmutability of the average hurlock?" it growled, smoke pouring from its nostrils.

He didn't know the answer. "I…is it 4?"

"NO!" Fire was pouring out of the dragon's mouth, engulfing him in flames—

Someone was screaming in the room. At his side, Zevran was leaping out of bed. Disoriented, Eruestan shied away from him, wildly thinking that the elf had tried to assassinate them again. Instead, he quickly realized that the assassin was struggling with someone else, while a third person was writhing around on the floor. Alistair and Sten were rising to their feet on the other side of the room. Waving his hands, he sent a ball of light flying to the ceiling. One of the villagers was thrashing on the ground, clutching at a throwing knife lodged in his throat. In the meantime, the barktender was trying to fight off Zevran who, now aided by the light, reached forward and slit the man's throat with another knife.

"Andraste's bleeding ass!" Alistair shouted. "What the hell is going on?"

Suddenly Cormac was barking, and there was a cry and a loud crash from the other room. Fifteen seconds later, their door burst open. "We just got attacked!" Rowena cried, hair wild. She paused and looked around their room. "Ah. Seems you already knew."

"Is there anyone else in the tavern?" Eruestan asked sharply.

"I will check," Zevran said, exiting the room. Rowena peered over the villagers and whistled.

"Leliana did the same thing," she said, pointing to the man with the knife in his throat. "Bad way to go."

"I don't feel that sympathetic," Eruestan snarled. "We need to find Genitivi now." He went out into the hallway, joining Wynne, Leliana, and Morrigan.

"Does everyone want to kill us?" Morrigan asked. Her clothes were lightly splattered with blood.

"Well, you are very exciting targets," Zevran said, climbing the stairs. "The tavern is empty. There are not very many places to hide."

"Let's get out of here, then," Rowena said, tying her hair back. "Be on your guard – for all we know, the entire village is waiting outside for us."

They left the inn with their weapons drawn. The night air was crisp and cool, a full moon hanging low in the sky. The village was completely silent. However, torches had been lit up to lead a path to the chantry, flickering in the darkness of the night.

Zevran walked over to the nearest house and opened the door. "There's no one here."

"Here either," Rowena said, peering in the next one. "Where is everyone?"

Eruestan walked over to the house nearest him and pushed the door open. He then yelped and jumped back. A pale, grotesque face was leering back at him, upside down. For a moment he was paralyzed with shock. Then, he realized that the man was dead.

"What's the matter?" Rowena asked, running over. He pointed shakily into the house. She jumped and tensed her sword. Eruestan waved his hand and sent a ball of light flying to the ceiling. By now the rest of the group had gathered around the door, all staring silently at the scene that waited for them.

A young man was sprawled on his back on a stone altar, his head staring back at the door. His neck and wrists bore deep cuts, all covered in dried blood.

Completely pale, Alistair walked forward and picked up a shield that was hanging on the back wall. "This is from Redcliffe," he said. "This was one of Arl Eamon's men."

"What are they doing here?" Wynne whispered in horror. "We need to find Genitivi as soon as possible."

"Wait a second," Leliana said sharply. "Do you hear that?"

They stood in silence for a moment. Slowly, they started to hear a soft chanting coming from the village chantry. "I think we found them," Eruestan said grimly.

They made their way to the chantry, the chanting growing louder and louder the closer they drew. Leliana lead them over to a window and gently crouched down against the glass. Pulling a knife from his belt, Zevran slowly pried the window open, giving them a view of the room within. Though the light was dim, they could make out a group of people chanting in the middle of the building. "That's not from the Chant of Light," Leliana whispered. "And is that…a Revered Father?"

Men were forbidden from joining the Chantry; the highest post they could attain was that of Brother of Andraste. All the same, standing in the back of the room was an older man who was clearly leading the village in prayer. "Maker of the skies, earth, and mountains, lend thy ear to thy children!" he cried, raising his hands. "How we love thee, Great Father, how we pray that thou might bless us!"

"Bless us, Great Father, help us to grow," the village chanted back. Their eyes were closed in reverence, and several of them were tearing at their clothes and hair. A chill went down Eruestan's back as he watched them wail and sing.

"The priest is staring often at the back corner," Sten said suddenly. "There's something back there."

As he said that, a door in the back corner opened and a young man walked out, carrying a large bowl. He bowed before the chantry's altar and set the bowl down in front of the priest. As he joined the rest of the village, a group of about ten men stood up in the back and walked forward.

"Maker," the priest called out, placing his hands in the bowl. Eruestan gasped as he drew them out; they were covered in blood. "As I place the blood of the Outsider on thy sons, grant them protection as they attempt once more thy bride to this world to bring." He smeared the blood over the face of the first man and continued moving down the line. The first man bowed, then pulled something out of his pocket and placed it in the wall. After a moment, a stone door slid open, revealing a black passage that he disappeared through. His fellows followed suit. After the last man passed through and the door resealed, the priest turned back to the village, raised his arms, and said "Go, brothers and sisters! Find the bodies of the other Outsiders in our village and bring them back for the service of our Maker!"

There was a violent roar as the villagers rushed out of the chantry, their eyes wild. The group pressed themselves against the walls as they ran down towards the town, their howls echoing into the night. "We don't have much time," Leliana whispered as the last of them rushed past. "We should have hidden the bodies – it won't take them long to find them."

"Well, let us get started, then," Zevran said, slipping through the chantry doors. The others followed suit, closing the doors behind them before running over to the corner door. Eruestan tried the handle. "It's locked," he hissed. "Wynne, Morrigan, help me blast it down."

"No!" Leliana said, running forward. "They'll find us right away if the door's broken! I'll take care of this." She snatched one of Zevran's daggers and pulled out a thin strip of metal from her pocket. She bent down and began working on the lock. Within a minute, the door clicked and slid open.

"W-who's there?" someone inside groaned. "Not again…"

"Brother Genitivi!" Wynne cried, running forward. Eruestan peered in the darkness at a old man chained to the back wall. He was dressed in rags and covered in dirt, clutching at a horrific cut on his side. "How long have you been here?"

"Enchanter Wynne?" the brother croaked, looking up at her. "Is that you?"

"Brother Genitivi, we don't have much time," Eruestan said. Angry shouts were starting to echo outside from the tavern. "Do you know how to get out of here?"

He nodded weakly. "There's a tunnel in the chantry that leads to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Father Erikur keeps a key in his desk – the only other man to have one is the leader of the Disciples of Andraste, Kolgrim. No one will be able to follow us if we go there."

"Disciples of Andraste?" Leliana asked, frowning.

"He can explain later," Eruestan said; the screams outside were getting louder. "Wynne, Morrigan, help me heal his wounds—someone see if you can find a way to break off these chains." The mages began tending to the scholar's injuries while Leliana and Zevran worked on unlocking his chains. Meanwhile, Rowena began rummaging through the desk in the room, opening every drawer.

"I can't find the key," she said, rifling through stacks of papers. "Are you sure it's in here?"

"It's not a normal key," Genitivi replied, rubbing his newly freed hands. "Look for a stone circle covered in carvings!"

She lifted a scrap of parchment and picked up a stone circle covered in carvings. "Like this?"

Wynne closed her eyes, muttered a final word, and watched in satisfaction as Genitivi's wound sealed. "I'm sorry I couldn't heal it completely," she said, helping him to his feet. "I can look at it again later."

"I'm just glad you can look at it now," the scholar replied, clutching her arm.

"The chantry!" someone outside yelled. "Look inside the chantry!"

"Leliana, get those chains unlocked, now!" Rowena said urgently, looking out into the main room of the chantry. "Sten, Alistair, get ready to help carry Genitivi to the door."

"Don't…rush…me," the bard said, focusing with her lock picks.

The shouts were picking up around the chantry. "Leliana!"

"Got it!" Sten crouched down and scooped up the old man, throwing him over his shoulder. Rowena and Cormac ran ahead to the back door in the main hall and placed the stone circle in an indent in the door.

"How does it work?" she asked, pressing it in harder. "Nothing's happening!"

"Turn it!" Genetivi said. "To the right!"

Rowena began to do so. However, at that moment the door to the chantry burst open, the priest at the head of a violent mob. "There they are!" he shouted, waving a glowing mage's staff. "Kill the Outsiders!"

That was all he was able to say before Leliana shot an arrow through his chest.

"Rowena, hurry!" she cried, notching back another arrow. The villagers were charging through, tripping over bodies as Leliana shot down another man.

The door clicked and the stone slid open, the key falling into Rowena's hand. "Go, go!" she yelled, jumping aside. Before entering the tunnel, Eruestan, Morrigan, and Wynne each sent a wave of force flying into the villagers, knocking them back from the entrance. Sten followed them through the door, and then Zevran, Alistair, and Cormac. "Leliana, Rowena, hurry!" Eruestan said, reaching out for both of them

The bard shot one last arrow and went inside. The chantry was now half filled with crazed villagers, all screaming and howling for their blood. Baring her sword, Rowena stepped back into the passage and yanked a lever hanging out the side. There was a great rumbling, but the villagers had already reached the entrance. A man screamed and started to jump through. Then the stone door slid shut, crushing his arm.

The hall went black. They were now in the Temple of Sacred Ashes.