Author's note: And we're finally on our way to Crestwood! I had an idea recently that makes me wish I would have had Alistair as the Warden instead of Stroud (since he feels like somewhat of a throwaway character to me in some ways), but when I realized the connection to saving Hawke's sibling in the Deep Roads I decided it makes more sense for him to be the Warden. It always bugs me a bit that Hawke's friend among the Wardens kind of comes out of nowhere in the game simply because it's convenient to the plot... Oh well. Hope you enjoy!

Crestwood was turning out to be quite the unpleasant little Ferelden backwater. Dorian had never had the highest opinion of the country to start with, but his opinion had only plummeted with every step they'd taken through the miserable mud and drizzle. And that was before they met the first group of undead.

"What a lovely place," he exclaimed when his boot got caught in the squelching mud for the third time.

Anders reached out a hand to pull him from the mud and Dorian smiled in gratitude, pleased that the Inquisitor allowed his hand to linger before pulling away. Staring at him in fascination when Anders returned his smile, Dorian thought that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that the man was so sparing with such expressions since it meant that every smile felt like something special and rare. But he really needed to check this growing infatuation with the Inquisitor before it got out of hand. Anders had already shut him down once, and while Varric's book had suggested that he had experience with other men, he hadn't yet shown any interest in Dorian personally.

"Weren't you just thanking Blondie for bringing you along, Sparkler?" Varric asked with a laugh. "I recall you saying something about how the castle gets so dreadfully boring and how eager you were to get out for awhile." The dwarf's mimicry of Dorian's exaggerated vowels was precise enough to actually make Dorian smile a little in spite of his discomfort.

"Ah, yes. That was before icy water managed to find its way inside my boots."

"You'll only make it worse thinking about it! Pretend you're on a beach somewhere and it's only ocean waves lapping against your toes."

He gave Varric a dubious look. "Your imagination is impressive, Varric, but I don't think even you could convince yourself of that."

"You don't need to imagine it," Anders pointed out. "You're a mage. You have other ways to keep yourself warm."

"Oh, I can think of plenty of ways to stay warm," Dorian assured with a salacious smirk, "but using magic for such a delicate task is only asking for burnt toes."

Rolling his eyes, Anders waved his fingers in the direction of Dorian's feet and a pleasant warmth blossomed over his soles, returning sensation to his skin and drying the dampness of his socks along the way.

Dorian sighed in relief, knowing and not caring that the sound was rather uncouth. "You are a man of many talents, Inquisitor."

"Blondie," Varric said sharply. "My morale is sinking with every step. Would you like to share some of that talent?"

"I thought you had your imagination to keep you warm?" Dorian teased.

"I also have a generous friend."

Anders turned, walking backward a few steps and concentrating on Varric's boots. Glancing up at Cassandra when he was finished, he lifted his brows in a silent question.

"Go ahead," she said grudgingly, blushing a bit when he was finished.

"It's a nice trick, isn't it?" Dorian asked her, but she looked away. Returning his attention to Anders, he said, "It's never been cold enough back home for such a technique to ever occur to me, but you must have been in some desperate situations to make you so resourceful."

Shrugging off the compliment, Anders replied, "It was a bitterly cold winter the first time I escaped from the tower. I'd run out in the middle of the night with nothing on my feet but an old pair of socks. They were full of holes and I thought I was so smart when I figured out how to warm my feet with magic, but Lake Calenhad was only half frozen at the time and the heat made the ice crack. My trick didn't do much to keep me warm after hours of trying to swim in the frigid water. I was nearly frozen solid when the templars found me."

Laughing, Varric said, "You never told me that story, Blondie. How old were you when that happened?"

"Oh, I don't know. All the escape attempts blur together at this point, really."

"All the attempts?" Dorian asked in amazement. "How many times did you try?"

"Seven. I'm nothing if not persistent."

Dorian's jaw dropped open in shock. "That's rather impressive."

"Not really," Anders said lightly, propping his staff under his arm and rubbing his hands together for warmth. "I never could stay escaped until the last one."

"How much farther, Varric?" Cassandra demanded, clearly tiring of the conversation.

Squinting down at a waterlogged piece of parchment and then back up at the rainy wilderness around them, Varric answered, "According to the map Hawke sent, the cave should be just around that ridge. I told you we were getting close, Seeker. You should really have more faith in me."

Cassandra sighed loudly. "I'll have more faith in you when you give me good reason," she said bluntly.

Suddenly Anders stumbled a bit and came to a stop, squinting at something off in the distance with a frown.

"What's wrong?" Cassandra asked, her hand immediately finding the pommel of her sword.

Anders frowned. "I don't know. It isn't exactly like the feeling I used to get when Wardens or darkspawn were nearby, but it's similar. My sense for that sort of thing has been different ever since I got this." He lifted his hand and the anchor flared to life for a moment. "Maybe this is just how it feels now."

"Which one do you suppose it is? Wardens or darkspawn?" Dorian asked, but the men in armor that appeared at the other end of the road answered that question.

The wardens were surprisingly unhelpful. They exchanged a brief but infuriating conversation about their reason for being in the area—searching for Hawke's contact apparently—and their refusal to defend the locals against the undead wandering the land. Dorian could see Anders' anger building as they spoke, but Cassandra reacted first, placing a hand on Anders arm to steady him. As soon as she made contact, he reined his anger in enough that the wardens didn't seem to notice, but even after he had calmed, Cassandra's hand lingered. Interesting. Dorian filed the observation away for later reflection.

"Can you believe that?" Anders said as soon as the wardens were out of earshot. "Helpless villagers are in danger and their Commander orders them to just walk away! This is exactly why I left the wardens. When I first joined, they followed a moral code that was more important to them than petty infighting. But by the end they were too focused on hierarchy and politics and not interested enough in simply doing the right thing."

"We may not have time to help those villagers either," Cassandra warned, eyes widening when Anders turned his glare on her.

"We'll make the time," he insisted.

"Inquisitor," she began, but he interrupted.

"No. They need help, and I'm the only one who can close that rift in the lake. What's the point of the Inquisition if we abandon those in need?"

Annoyance sparked in her eyes, but she took control of it, taking a deep breath before replying. "I agree that we should try to help them, but those Wardens are looking for Hawke's contact. If they find him before we do..."

Nodding reluctantly, Anders agreed, "We'll meet with Hawke and Stroud first. But we're going back to the village when we're done."

Varric chuckled under his breath, patting Anders on the back as they continued walking. "You're such a bleeding heart, Blondie."

"I know you want to help them as much as I do."

"I never said I was complaining."

Despite Varric's insistence that they were close to their destination, their path led them the long way around the ridge and Dorian's feet were feeling cold and numb again by the time the cave was in sight. Anders' expression darkened as they began climbing the rocky slope, turning into a melancholy frown when he saw the woman standing at the mouth of the cave ahead, a woman who could only be Hawke. She was shorter than he had been expecting, but fit and attractive, and her eyes had a fire in them that both intrigued and intimidated.

"You finally made it," she said coolly, expression strained as she watched Anders approach. "And I see you brought some friends."

Anders didn't reply, his expression carefully neutral.

"Hawke, I presume?" Cassandra asked, a slight quaver in voice that sounded like excitement. Anders and Varric exchanged a look of surprise at Cassandra's behavior, but Dorian merely smiled. Clearly the Seeker had been bottling up a bit of hero worship for the Champion. "I'm Cassandra Pentaghast," she said, offering her hand. "I've heard so much about you."

"Nice to meet you," Hawke replied. "But don't believe everything you've heard. Varric likes to exaggerate."

Cassandra smiled tightly. "I'm well aware."

"And I am Dorian Pavus," Dorian said, sketching a little bow when Hawke turned her attention to him. "A pleasure."

Hawke's eyes narrowed. "You're from Tevinter," she observed, her gaze flicking back to Anders in accusation.

"Not everyone from Tevinter is mad with power," Dorian explained quickly. "You needn't worry. I tend to disagree with my countrymen on most things."

"Including slavery?" Eyebrow arching in challenge, Hawke returned the full weight of her attention to him, and he tried not to squirm in discomfort. He remembered something about an elven slave in Varric's book, and realized why she was being so particular about this point. Fortunately, he was on her side.

"Including that, yes."

"Good." Hawke nodded decisively as if that settled everything. "My contact with the Wardens is waiting at the back of the cave. This way."

They followed her down the passage, and although the cave was damp and smelled like mildew, Dorian was just glad to be out of the rain. Putting his hair back in order, he kept a close watch on his companions' body language as they walked, noticing how Hawke intentionally turned herself away from Anders and Anders slumped his shoulders slightly in a defensive posture. He had read about the history between them—at least as much as Varric revealed honestly—so he wasn't surprised to feel the tension in the air, though it felt a bit more charged than he had been anticipating. Even Varric seemed to be on edge.

The passage opened up into a larger chamber, one that appeared to be well lived in considering the cheery fire and various items scattered about. Anders walked ahead of the rest of them and turned in a slow circle as he waited for their host to appear, but he missed the impressively mustachioed man stepping out of the shadows behind him, brandishing a sword with a fierce expression.

"Anders," the man grumbled when he saw his face, letting the blade drop.

"Stroud," Anders replied evenly. "Fancy meeting you here." Though Dorian had known Anders was a Warden, he hadn't expected him to already know the one they were meeting.

Glancing at Hawke, Stroud put his sword back in its scabbard. "I thought you were bringing the Inquisitor."

"You're looking at him," Hawke replied dryly.

The man scowled, the expression exaggerated by his thick facial hair; Dorian longed to give that bushy mess a better trim. "You have a demon's luck," Stroud said to Anders.

"I prefer to think of it as the luck of a cat. Nine lives and all that. Plus, cats are adorable."

"I see you haven't changed," Stroud scoffed, but Hawke frowned as if she disagreed. "Just remember, Anders. We're even now."

"Really? I hear Bethany is an excellent Warden. I think you got the better end of that bargain in the end."

"She is, but you were the one asking for the favor. I won't protect you again."

"What a loss. Especially since I hear you're the one on the run now."

Stroud's frown turned more contemplative. "Yes. I suppose that's true."

"What happened?" Dorian asked, startled when all eyes in the cave settled on him. "I mean, isn't that why we're here? To find that out?"

Stroud nodded. "Warden Commander Clarel is planning some sort of blood magic ritual to prevent future blights. When I protested the plan as madness, my own comrades turned on me."

"That is madness. Why would she even consider such a thing?" Anders demanded.

Stroud looked at him in disbelief. "Because of the Calling, of course. When every Warden in Orlais began hearing it, the leadership panicked. They are desperately searching for a way to end the blight before we all fall."

Anders looked horrified. "Wait...what?"

"You must be feeling it as well," Stroud insisted.

Stunned, Anders looked down at the flicker of light on his palm as if it held the answer. "I haven't felt anything. I haven't even had a darkspawn nightmare in months."

Regarding him thoughtfully, Hawke said, "You said the anchor prevented Corypheus from controlling you. Perhaps it has blocked the Calling as well?"

"If that is true, than you are even luckier than you know. The Calling is a persistent breast. It lurks like a wolf in the shadows around a campfire." Stroud's Orlesian accent made the words sound prettier than their meaning, the contrast in tone sending shivers down Dorian's spine. "The creature that makes this music has never known the love of the Maker but...at times I almost understand it. We must uncover what Corypheus has done and end it."

"I'm sorry, but can someone please explain what this Calling is?" Dorian said, again drawing everyone's attention. " What? It isn't my fault that I'm apparently the only one here who hasn't had much direct experience with wardens.

"The Calling tells a warden that the Blight will soon claim him," Stroud explained. "Starts with dreams. Then come whispers in his head. The warden says his farewells and goes to the Deep Roads to meet his death in combat."

Dorian grimaced. "Sounds barbaric."

"And every Grey Warden in Orlais is hearing that right now?" Varric asked. "They all think they're dying? No wonder they've lost their minds. Corypheus is controlling them through their fear."

"Yes. And they aren't likely to listen to reason." Stroud pointed down at a map on a nearby table. "They are gathering in the western approach at an ancient Tevinter ritual tower. I hope to find answers there."

Author's note: So, what did you think of Hawke's second appearance? I plan to include her in the next chapter as well so we'll get to spend a little more time with her.