"Many a time, a man's mouth broke his nose."
-Irish Proverb

The group managed to seal a few rifts on their way from Haven to the Hinterlands. Upon arriving, they'd been greeted by Corporal Vale, a man tasked with overlooking the refugee situation at a small outpost. Running odd jobs where they could, Naomi and her companions performed tasks such as bringing furs for the cold people and recovering herbs for a healer in need. They even found time to contact Dennet, the horse master.

They'd go into a wolf's den, killing the wolves and the demon controlling the beasts. They also marked positions for guard towers, clearing the way of bandits in between. She sent word to Haven to oversee the construction of the towers.

Dennet invited them to stay the night in the guest house. They'd acquired multiple agents and sealed more than one rift in the day, and welcomed rest underneath a solid roof. Dennet's wife delivered them a plentiful dinner and supplied their mounts with water and feed- even Dullahan.

Words could not express their gratitude. After the woman left and their bellies full, they sat around for a night cap- the alcohol supplied by Naomi, of course. The Captain's rum was not popular among all, however.

"This is absolutely dreadful." Vivienne passed the makeshift glass, "How you consume such a substance is beyond me."

"It's not supposed to taste good Vivvy, it's supposed to get you pissed drunk!" Sera cheered.

"This is hardly enough to get me drunk." Iron Bull grunted.

"The blessing of having a small frame." Varric was pleased with the spiced rum.

"I feel as though I'm committing a crime drinking just it." Solas chuckled.

"Aye, it's kindle for pirates, and should feel as such."

"Are you actually a pirate?" Cassandra asked, suspiciously, "You and your entire crew wear that same symbol-the same one on your flag. It's worked into almost every piece of armor and weapon you all arm yourselves with."

Naomi dodged the question, "If you're still guessin' if I be a pirate, I must be goin' soft."

Vivienne greatly approved.

…

Redcliffe came into view as the seven-person army moved closer.

"There's somethin' goin' off over there." Naomi pulled her spyglass from its holder, peering ahead in the now-clear weather.

"Another rift!" She yelled, spurring Dullahan ahead of the rest of them.

"Herald!" Cassandra called, charging after her.

A large terror demon stood before a squadron of soldiers just in front of the gates to Redcliffe. Dullahan charged forward, shrieking in the air as he did. Naomi stood to her feet, balancing herself on the saddle as he ran, reins still in hand. As he got close enough to the demon, she leapt into the air, drawing her swords. Their blades buried themselves into the demons' back, the cannon from her pistol sword firing a shot. The bullet tore through the demon, leaving a trail of slimy, green goo as it exited the other side of it.

Yelling out in rage, the wounded creature called aid from the other demons around it. Her party caught up to her. Being distracted so high up on the creatures back, she looked down to notice how some of her companions were moving much slower than the others, and some much quicker.

"Be weary, mates! Somethin's off here!" She sent a burst of energy through the Sword of Eden, exploding the monster into the air. Falling, she translocated in front of the rift, shouting as her hand began to absorb the energy from the rift. The crystalline structure cracked, and the enemies around her were stunned. They made quick work of them, allowing Naomi to seal the rift for good.

"More gunpowder?" Iron Bull whispered.

"Aye, I'll show you later."

Cheers rang around them as the guards of the large gate saluted her, granting them passage into Redcliffe.

"Thank you, Inquisition."

The village was much larger inside the gates than it appeared from the other side. It smelled of fresh water and crisp pine trees. Huts with thatched rooves littered the area; it had very interesting infrastructure. The docks on Lake Calenhad were glorious, as many colorful merchant ships littered the area. Redcliffe Castle loomed in the distance, its flags whipping in the wind.

"This'll be the place, then. 'The Gull and Lantern' tavern."

"Are you sure this is where she invited you?" Cassandra asked.

"That's what the report said." Iron Bull crossed his arms.

They tied their mounts outside of the building and entered, cautiously.

"Welcome, agents of the Inquisition." Fiona greeted them immediately, "First Enchanter Vivienne." She gave her a nod.

"My dear Fiona, it's been so long since we last spoke. You look dreadful! Are you sleeping well?

"There it goes again…" Sera mumbled.

"What has brought you to Redcliffe?" Fiona asked, her formalities expiring.

Naomi laughed nervously, looking around.

"Lass, your memory fails you. You invited me here back in Val Royeaux, lest you forget." Naomi grew anxious.

"You must be mistaken. I haven't been to Val Royeaux since before the Conclave"

"Don't play that game with me, lass."

"I'd have no reason to invite you here. The Free Mages have already…pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium.

A ripple of shock flew through the party.

"Fiona dear, your dementia is showing." Vivienne leaned on one hip, crossing her arms.

"An alliance with Tevinter? Do you not fear all of Thedas turning against you?" Cassandra asked sarcastically.

"Andraste's ass...I'm trying to think of a single worse thing you could have done. And I've got nothing." Varric rolled his eyes.

"This right here is why you can't trust mages…" Iron Bull whispered to Solas.

"I understand that you are afraid, but you deserve better than slavery to Tevinter. Surely you can be reasoned with." Solas cut the slew of comments.

"As one indentured to a Magster, I'm afraid I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you." Fiona addressed the elf directly.

"Aye, bring me who can, then. Time isn't something I have a plentiful bounty of, mate."

"Welcome, my friends! I apologize for not greeting you earlier." An older man stepped from the shadows, wearing strange and pointy clothing.

The flames of the torches snipped behind him, illuminating a curious face.

"Agents of the Inquisition, allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius."

"The Southern Mages are under my command. You are the survivor, yes? The one from the Fade?" He looked her up and down, "Interesting."

"Let's cut the chatter, yeah? I'm here for Mages. Need help closin' the huge rift in the sky- maybe you've seen it?" Naomi spat, her patience forever growing thin.

"Right down to business! I understand, of course." Alexius sat down, inviting Naomi to the table, "Felix, would you send for a scribe please? Pardon my manners. My son Felix, friends."

"Why does this posh git keep calling us 'friends?'"

"I am not surprised you're here. Containing the Breach is not a feat that many could even attempt. There is no telling how many mages would be needed for such an endeavor. Ambitious, indeed." Alexius continued.

"Does that mean you'll lend your Mages to our cause?" Naomi yawned, wanting a clear answer.

The young man Felix grew faint, stumbling over himself in a daze. The Captain stood quickly to catch him before he hit the ground, helping him to his feet.

Naomi tried to not pay too much attention to the young man's swift actions as Felix slipped her a note. It was a trained motion, and his subtle actions left her impressed.

"Felix!" Alexius shot up, helping his son.

"I'm so sorry! Please forgive my clumsiness, my lady." His voice was soft and sweet.

"Come, I'll get your powders. Please excuse me, friends. We will have to continue this another time. Fiona, I require your assistance back at the castle. I shall send word to the Inquisition. We will conclude this business at a later date." Alexius helped his son into a chamber.

"I don't mean to trouble everyone…" Felix muttered as his father shut the door behind them.

Naomi looked down to the note, reading it quietly for the rest of her group.

"'Come to the Chantry…you are in danger.' The piss is this?"

"Ooo, very mysterious." Varric rubbed his hands together, "Only one way to find out."

"Ugh, more walking?" Naomi rolled her neck, walking ahead of the rest of them, "Let's get this over with so I can set sail-damned ground hasn't got this much attention since before my 13th year."

The group hauled up the large hill to the Chantry in disdain.

"Why'd it have to be so high up?" Sera complained.

Naomi mauled over the events that had just transpired.

"The Tevinter Imperium is really as bad as you lot make it out to be, yeah?"

"It is. And I question the Free Mages for joining them." Solas sighed.

The group topped the large hillside to find the Chantry empty, save for one, unexpected presence.

A rift had torn inside the building, and a single man fought off the demons- glistening in stone-accented armor with a staff that hurled magic at his enemies.

"Good! You're finally here! Now, help me close this, would you?"

His mustache was long and precise, and it held Naomi's attention.

"Your horns might have some competition."

"Me? Competition? Never." Vivienne scoffed.

"Not you…" Naomi removed the Staff of Eden from her back, twirling it as she slammed it onto the ground.

Light slithered its way to underneath the rift, stunning the small demons littered in the building. She lifted it, and the bodies rose in the air. Hurling the Apple end towards the ground, the demons bashed against the stone floor of the Chantry. Yawning again, she approached the rift, placing the Staff back on her back.

"Let's get on with this…" She raised her hand, closing the rift with ease.

"Fascinating. How does that work, exactly?" He approached Naomi, taking her hand in his.

"Careful, now." Naomi pulled her hand back quickly, "I don't know you from dirty bath water."

"Ah, getting ahead of myself, I see. Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?" He gave a slight bow. He was a gorgeous, gorgeous man.

Tight robes surrounded him, being kept in place by various leather straps. Only one of his arms held a sleeve, the other exposed his large, caramel bicep; adorned in cuffs and bracers.

"Let more Tevinter in, suddenly they're scurrying out of the walls like roaches." Vivienne glared at him.

"Now, now, I'm ever so much more handsome than a cockroach."

"That you are, indeed." Naomi winked at him.

"Watch yourself. The pretty ones are always the worst." Iron Bull cocked his head.

"Suspicious friends you have, here!" Dorian raised his hands, "Magister Alexius was once my mentor, so my assistance should be valuable- as I'm sure you can imagine."

"So, you're a Magister?" Cassandra had yet to put her sword away.

"All right, let's say this once. I'm a mage from Tevinter, but not a member of the Magisterium. I know Southerners use the terms interchangeably, but that only makes you sound like barbarians."

"And let me guess. You're betraying your mentor because he's evil and doing some evil things and you want to do the less evil out of either of you. Got that right?" Naomi raised her brow.

"Look, you must know there's danger. That should be obvious even without the note that I sent you. Let's start with Alexius claiming the allegiance of the mage rebels out from under you. As if by magic, yes? Which is exactly right. To reach Redcliffe before the Inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself."

"So that's how he got here right before the Divine died…" Naomi pondered.

"You catch on quick." Dorian smiled at her, his teeth perfectly white.

Naomi turned to address the band of Inquisition warriors.

"You don't believe this do you? It's daft." Sera furled her lips in disgust.

"If true, it's almost certainly dangerous." Solas seemed interested.

"Manipulating time itself?" Vivienne turned to Solas, "Many have attempted over the ages, but never once succeeded."

"Considering I was brought here from a different realm all together, I'd watch what we chalk as 'daft' versus 'something we just don't know about." The Captain brought the banter down to a minimum.
"The rift you closed here? You saw how it twisted time around itself, sped some things up and slowed others down. Soon, there will be more like it, and they'll appear further and further away from Redcliffe. The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable, and it's unraveling the world." Dorian's voice lost its upbeat charm.

"Then perhaps he'll have some answers for my…questions." Naomi squeezed her fist, silencing the green flares coming from underneath her gloves.

"I'd like more proof than, 'Magical time control! Go with it.'" Sera sputtered.

"I know what I'm talking about. I helped develop this magic. When I was still his apprentice, it was pure theory. Alexius could never get it to work." Dorian crossed his arms behind his back, pacing, "What I don't understand is why he's doing it? Ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lackeys?"

"He didn't do it for them." Felix caught them all by surprise.

His footsteps echoed against the solid stone.

"Took you long enough. Is he getting suspicious?" Dorian walked over to him.

"No, but I shouldn't have played the illness card. I thought he'd be fussing over me all day. I'm very ill, you see. Have been for months. Probably fatal." Felix explained, "On to more pressing matters-my father's joined a cult. Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves the 'Venatori.'"

"So, he'd rearrange time and snagged the Mage Rebellion just to find me? I'm flattered." Naomi raised her hands sarcastically.

"They're obsessed with you, but I don't know why. Perhaps because you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes?" Felix guessed.

"You can close the rifts. There's either a connection or they simply see you as a threat." Dorian place his fingers on his chin, setting his elbow on a fist in contemplation.

"If the Venatori are behind those rifts, or the Breach in the sky, they're even worse than I thought." Felix coughed.

"You know you're his target. Expecting the trap is the first step in turning it to your advantage. I can't be seen with you; especially because Alexius doesn't know I'm here. I'll be in touch." Dorian turned to walk away, "Oh, and Felix? Do try not to get yourself killed?"

"There are worse things than dying, Dorian." He solemnly answered.

…

"Rather dreary for the first few days on the road, yeah?" Naomi sipped her ale, not wanting to get too hammered.

"At least we're alive to complain about it." Varric grunted, looking around the tavern, "Too many refugees here. Reminds me of Kirkwall."

"I hear reconstruction of the city is progressing well. Is that true?" Cassandra asked him.

"I know things are bad there, Seeker."

"I wasn't trying to…"

"You weren't trying to remind me how bad it is in Kirkwall? So you decided to ask me about it?"

"About its recovery!" Cassandra defended herself.

"What you're talking about the buildings. People don't recover so easily."

"I think it's time for a change of topic." Naomi intervened, nodding her head over to a bearded man at the bar.

"Who's that, all grizzly?" Sera turned her head.

"Looks like the guy Leliana asked me to check out. Fits the description. Let's have a look see." Naomi stood to her feet, walking over to the stool next to him.

She sat and ordered another drink, peaking at him from the side of her eyes. She feigned shock as best she could.

"Blackwall? The Warden Blackwall?" Her eyes glistened as if she was an adoring fan.

The man spit his drink out back in his cup, wiping the back splash from his beard.

"You're not…how do you know my name?" He grew angrily defensive.

"Aye, you just told me, mate." She took a swig from her mug, extending her hand, "Captain McNamara of the Inquisition. How yeh be?"

He didn't shake her hand.

"You wound me!" She retracted the gesture, "I'm askin' 'round 'bout the disappearance of the Wardens. Wonderin' if it has anything to do with the murder of the Divine. Poor timing on your part, mate."

"Oh, Maker's balls, the Wardens and the Divine? That can't- no, you're asking, you don't really know."

"Guilty as charged." She took another sip.

"First off, I didn't know they disappeared. But we do that, right? No more Blight, job done, Wardens are the first thing forgotten." He drank, "But one thing I'll tell you: No Warden killed the Divine. Our purpose isn't political."

"Tellin' me mates I was no politician didn't seem to stop me from gettin' wrapped up in all this mess. Why should the Wardens be any different?"

"It's true- I haven't seen any Wardens for months. I travel alone, recruiting. That doesn't give you proper grounds to accuse them of murder." He glowered.

"I haven't accused anyone of anything, as of yet. I just need a wee bit'o information."

Blackwall sighed, just wanting to be left alone.

"Grey Wardens can inspire, make you better than you think you are." His voice trailed off, "Maybe they returned to our stronghold in Weisshaupt? That's in the Anderfels, a long way north. I don't really know. Can't imagine why they'd all disappear at once, let alone where they'd disappear to."

"You're not really givin' me anything of use, mate." She looked at him curiously, "So, why are you still 'round?"

"Training farmers to defend their lands from the war these idiots caused." He growled.

Naomi was defeated in her purpose.

"Right, then. Enjoy your drink…and your farmers." Naomi stood to walk back to her table.

As she began to walk way, he spoke up.

"Captain…McNamara, did you say? Hold a moment." He stood to face her, "The Divine is dead, and the sky is torn. Events like these, thinking we're absent is almost as bad as thinking we're involved. If you're trying to put things right, maybe you need a Warden. Maybe you need me."

Naomi made a twisted face, pretending to think it over.

"What say you, mates?" She turned to her companions.

"The Inquisition needs all the support it can get, but what can one Grey Warden do?" Vivienne challenged the sunken-eyed man.

"Save the fucking world, if pressed." He softened his hard face into a grin, "Look, maybe fighting demons from the sky isn't something I'm practiced at, but show me someone who is. I might even get a few to honor those bloody treaties in this disaster. Being a Warden means something to a lot of people." Blackwall pleaded.

Naomi looked to her table, they gave her various nods of approval.

"Warden Blackwall, the Inquisition accepts your offer."

"Good to hear," his smile widened, "From this day forward, this Warden walks with the Inquisition."

"You may regret that in the morn', lad."