Okay, Talkie-Bone, what are you squawking about this time? I glance up to check the doorway. Doesn't look like anybody's coming to answer you... guess I have to. I knock the bone out from the grip, and wait. I hope it's another salesman, I can bark my head off at them and nobody cares.

"Hi... it's Alistair here – just wanted to see if we were still right for this afternoon?"

We don't know any Alistair. And I would have been told if something were happening today. I give a warning huff into the speaking end.

"... Hello?" I hear him pause when I growl. "I think she has one of those prank message-bank things... it's barking like a dog" he tells someone else where he is.

Before I can respond, Mistress enters the room and looks down at me. "The phone's not a toy, Max... and you better not have called up the radio station to annoy the DJ again."

If that jerk didn't want people saying he's wrong on-air, he shouldn't have said that crappy cover version he kept playing was better than the original!

"Give me that..." she grabs up the bone. "Hello? … Oh, hey. Sorry about that, my bloody dog got to the phone again. Yeah... uh-huh... yeah, 2 will be fine. You've got the address, right? … Yeah, that's it. The place with the green fence. Uh-huh."

Teenagers... and she has the gall to claim I have bad conversation etiquette!

She hangs up, and gives me a look. "Some people from the academy are coming by later, just so you know. So I need you not to be a pain in the arse while we're working – they'll be here around 2, so just stay on the couch and watch that show of yours. We need to get this project finished, to shut her up..."

Fine by me... it's about time you brought people around, anyway. We've been here a month, and it's only been us and Nan. And she doesn't count, since it's her house.


Well, the show's started now, so these people better keep it down when they finally arrive.

Ignoring my advice, the door-bell erupts into an annoying chirp. Mistress gives me another warning look and goes to open it. Opening credits are playing, so I guess I can see who we've got... a dopey looking guy, and... two tattooed kids. They look like those Dalish weirdos.

"Al, Lyna... Merrill, wasn't it? Come on in. Ignore my dog" she motions, making Dopey look over. Sup, bro? I'd come sniff you, but my show's on.

He glances from me, to the T.V. "Ah, Guardsman Rex is on... didn't know they were still making this show."

"It'll keep him out of our way for an hour" Mistress says, showing them to the big table. "He's obsessed with it." Two hours – it's a double-episode on Saturdays.

One of the Dalish girls squints, watching the opening murder. "What is this?"

"It's about a Mabari who joined the City-Guard, to fight crime... it's made over in Kirkwall or somewhere" Dopey grins.

The other Dalish shakes her head, and opens her book. So these are the others who got stuck in your punishment assignment? Well, have fun with that. I flop back over onto my side, to watch the show. I don't know anything about Instructor Wyn, or whoever, but I can't blame her for making you all do a group project on Ayesleigh... serves you right, for ignoring her course-work lecture except for the part about Griffons.


The show's over, and it sounds like they're almost done... they're mostly gossiping about other students.

I hear a light thud, and one of their bags starts playing music. "Not mine" the quiet Dalish mutters, while the others all look up. Hearing muffled singing start, Dopey gets up and walks over to his bag. Checking both side-pockets, he digs out a small talkie-bone. "... My idiot brother" he sighs, like he'd rather not answer.

"They're off to find the hero of the day, but what if they should fall by someone's wicked way? Still-" Singer-Man cuts off, as Dopey hits a button.

"Cailan, what's... yeah, you said 6. Why? … Yeah, fine. You know where the Moira Gardens are? Yeah, I'll meet you by the north end." He shakes his head a little. "Well, I better be going... they've decided they need me earlier now."

Quiet Dalish nods, as they both stand. "Very well. We should see about returning, also."

Other Dalish smiles, and checks her watch. "... I think there's a bus every 30 minutes. Or so the driver said. I don't think he'd be wrong, right?" She stops, when Quiet Dalish hands over a bag.

"Chill out, Merrill. As long as we catch one before it gets too dark, who cares?"

Mistress checks her own watch, and stands. "I'll walk you guys down there... Max needs his walk before it gets dark as well." Please, leave the- She turns to the coat-rack by the door. You don't need to strangle me with that damn tow-rope for a walk... I'm not a boat!


Happy now? I bet all those lucky bastards, running around the dog-section, are laughing their butts off at me. 'Diddum Woof-Woof going walkies! Diddum Woof-Woof going walkies!' I'm a grown Mabari, for Dane's sake; but here I'm stuck while those bastards are running free and easy and arrogant... just like that damned squirrel you wouldn't let me chase.

Twitchy Dalish jumps up, waving at a slowly approaching bus. Simmer down, would ya? It's not like getting the Number 12 lets you win at Bingo... I think. Nah.

After they're both on the bus and gone, Mistress turns to Dopey. "What's their story? I know they're from one of those Dalish communes out in the forests, but what's the deal?"

Dopey shrugs. "This is just what I heard, of course... but apparently Lyna and someone else in their Clan or whatever they call it were scavenging in a cave and found a old landfill or something. They both got an infection from stepping on all the old crap, I guess, because they ended up sick as a dog." What are you trying to say, Dopey?!

"Shut up, Max. Go on."

"... Well, sick as some other non-canine simile. The other guy died, I heard, because the Dalish herbal junk the Keeper tried didn't work. Merrill apparently had enough, and got Lyna out of there and tried hitching into the city along the Western Highway during the night. I have no idea who stopped for them, but someone did; from there, I guess the hospital got onto Duncan about having two Dalish runaways camping in Admissions."

"I knew you'd have the good gossip" Mistress says. "The advantage of your dad running Grey Academy, right?"

"... Guardian. Sort of." He buckles around Mistress' Go on expression. "Short version: my original guardian finally gave up and tried shipping me off to a Chantry school a few years back, to keep his wife happy. Luckily, also to keep her happy, he'd never officially signed any paperwork about me so I just took off and came here. Duncan knew my mother, back when, so he was happy to get me into the Academy."

"... Knew your mother, huh? Is that code for-"

"Nothing like that" he groans. "When you see my brother, you'll know. Okay?"

"Fine" she offers an apologetic look. "I take it you already know why I'm here?"

"Not really... when he told me to show you around, Duncan just said it was complicated."

"Yeah... there's probably some legal bullshit involved, so I'll have to go short-version as well. Dad ran a few businesses, where I'm from. Sizable little empire, all told. So after our parents died, one of their business partners decided to pull a hostile takeover. My brother and some of the old board are currently trying to get things back, but it could be tied-up for years... college abroad was too pricey after all that, so I decided to do my duty for the family and save what I could. So I'm down in Denerim now, with one of our former nannies. I believe Duncan offered a basic scholarship for me to my parents a couple of years ago, and he sent me the same offer."

"So... your family's one that had more than one nanny, and sounds like you were 'up' from Denerim" Dopey begins.

"Kind of obvious, isn't it? Yeah, my family are/were head of Silver Laurels. Just don't repeat it around... last thing we need is fucking Ren Howe's lawyers saying I've been accusing him of misdeeds in the streets of Denerim."

"Duly noted" Dopey replies, suddenly frowning at something. "... Yeah, just keep walking."

"What?" Mistress follows his gaze. "... That goth chick, across the street?"

"Morrigan. Had enough run-ins with her to last me a decade" Dopey complains. "Typical crazy home-schooled kid... her and her equally crazy mother live out in the Wilds somewhere, but she comes into the city every so often."

"The Wilds?"

"It's what people call the housing estates. Korcari Villa, or whatever her one is, is meant to be one of the shittier ones. Chasind, mostly... and people like Morrigan."

"Right. Not a fan of Morrigan... shame, I guess. She looked cute."

"Sure... like a well-groomed cat, that's secretly got rabies and... salmonella" Dopey teases.

"Salmonella? I don't think-"

"Whatever disease cats spread, then. I don't know." Probably all kinds of horrid maladies. We're talking about cats, after all.

Mistress leans back against the bench. "Think the project's good enough to shut Wynne up? I had to agree to a double-shift tomorrow, just to get time today to work on it. And tomorrow's gonna suck, even if I only had the one..."

"You work?" Dopey looks over.

"Like I said, I'm not touching my trust funds in case we need them. I'm working at a music shop in the Calen Mall. You ever been to Enchantment?"

"Now and then... that's the one with the Dwarf owner?"

"Bodahn, yeah. So anyway, tomorrow... you remember The Bards?"

"Vaguely. Orlesian soft-rock, or whatever they call it across the border. Didn't they split up a few years back?"

"Drummer O.D'ed, and the singer got busted smuggling the same shit at the border. That's them... but the back-up chick, with the violin? Apparently she's back, trying to go solo, and my boss somehow booked her for an appearance. He's expecting crowds, so it's all hands on deck. I'm expecting it'll be the longest day ever..."

Dopey whistles in disbelief. "Yeah, that... sounds terrible. I'm suddenly glad I just have to do unpaid maintenance around the Academy on weekends. I-" He hisses in pain as there's a loud smack, and juts forward. A football falls to the ground behind him, as Mistress spins to look back at someone running up to us.

"Heads up!" the new guy smirks, watching Dopey turn and glare. Looks like a taller version of Dopey.

"... Okay, not to sound weird, but I think Maric's son just clocked you with tha-" She stares for a moment, as Dopey rubs his head. "... Well, shit. So your brother is-"

"Half-brother" New Guy grins, leaning his arms on Dopey's head. "Got you smack in the coconut again, huh? That's another 10 points for me."

"... Get off me. Dick."

"Told you last time, bromo. Keep me waiting, I get to throw things at you." Retrieving the football, New Guy shoots Mistress a toothy smile. "Saw you trying to chat up a girl, so I pulled into a different parking lot to give you a few more minutes. But time's up... Norrie wants you there before dinner. Her and her old man probably want to coach you on what to say if any reporters dig you up when the election gets closer. Half or not, I'm gonna be Prez, so you'll be important by association. The General will probably feed you your own nuts if you say the wrong thing, just to warn you now. Still, better than what Anora would do to them... well, move it, huh? Family's waiting!" He juggles the football for a moment, as Dopey gives Mistress a quick wave while grabbing his bag.

"... Care to trade weekends?" he whispers.

"I know all about The General... sorry, I'll stick with sweaty music geeks" she answers, with her own wave. The two Dopies keep arguing as they go, but I don't think Mistress can hear them, now she's using her talkie-bone.

"Ever hear of texting, genius? That frigging hurt..." Little Dopey complains, shoving the other one.

"A man's gonna practice, little bro. Besides, now you can milk sympathy for your next date."

"... Wasn't a date. I just know her from class."

I just make out Taller Dopey turn to look at him. "Blew it already, did you? And I thought you were quick to drive off that Amell babe I introduced you to..."

Heh. They look like when Furgus and Mistress used to fight.

"C'mon Max. Time we headed home, too. Nan says she already ate, so I'll grab something as we go." Hopefully not that Antivan joint again... the server's a slimy creep, the way he stares when you aren't looking. What kind of dumb name is 'Zev', anyway? I think whoever made his name-badge was drunk.


We get home and Nan's got Mr. Suck-Suck going. Keep that infernal demon away from me!

"Bit late to be cleaning, Nan. You just got home?" Mistress asks, as I shield myself behind her legs.

"Just a once-over" Nan absently replies, shutting down the evil-stick. Ha! Your evil, whiny plan to guzzle all the air and suffocate us fails again! I'm onto to you... anything that makes the kind of demonic noises you do must be up to no good!

"While I was at Leandra's... did you meet her yet?"

"I think so – you said she used to be from Kirkwall?" Mistress replies, tipping her food on a plate.

"That's her. Well, she said her oldest and his friends are chasing money to go on some kind of trip to Orzammar. Cave-exploring, I think. So since they're running around town on errands for people, they agreed to come tomorrow. Clear out that bloody over-grown garden, do the gutters, so on. You should have seen one of them – tallest Elf I ever met. Personality of a porcupine, though. They'll try to be here mid-morning, so don't worry about them waking you."

Mistress nods, putting down her fork. "... Hmm. Good. Thankfully we got our work done today."

"And did it teach you something about staying out of trouble?" Nan prods.

"We'll see. Don't want to be completely boring, now" Mistress answers. "Speaking of – Max, if these people tomorrow turn out to be hooligans, eat them."

Naturally!

"Or I'll just lock him in your room" Nan grumbles. "He's the only hooligan..."

If that's how you're gonna be, I'll stay in our room anyway. I think the old movie Channel are playing a war movie about one of the Blights... I'll just watch that instead of helping you against hooligans... I wonder how I would have done, fighting a Blight?


Date should give away what just happened to the story... I guess I was bored. Normal Max chapters will resume shortly, now I've finally got internet back. Fratboy Cailan made way too much sense, once I thought of it.